Evil Never Dies
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: CONCLUDED WITH CHAPTER 8! The sequel to Ghosts. A new threat rises, which brings Ayumi in contact with Gin and Vodka again, and endangers all of their lives, and their very trust in each other.
1. The New Threat

**Detective Conan**

**Evil Never Dies**

**By LuckyLadybug**

**Notes: The characters aren't mine (except the antagonists), and the story is! I've had some requests for a _Ghosts_ sequel, and I had an idea for something else, too, so I decided to combine them. I hope what I've come up with is pleasing to my readers!**

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**Chapter One **

As school let out that late autumn day, relieved and excited children poured out of the building. Among them were Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi, accompanied by Conan and Ai. They chatted happily while Conan and Ai listened, making plans for the day and wondering if they would get any new cases to solve. 

"No one left any messages for us today," Genta frowned. "I guess nobody here has a mystery for us to solve."

"Oh well, maybe we can find a mystery on our own!" Ayumi suggested with a smile.

"Yeah!" Mitsuhiko chimed in. "It's happened before."

Conan refrained from speaking, but he knew that he would much rather not work on any more mysteries with the Detective Boys. It was often difficult, because they would not understand the danger they were in, and Genta especially would believe that he knew everything there was to detecting, when he actually did not. But Conan did not speak. He hung back instead, and he and Ai exchanged a silent glance. Conan's said everything that he had been thinking. Ai's said that she understood, and that she often felt the same way, but that she enjoyed the fact that they were still so innocent in spite of what they had gone through.

None of them realized that they were being spied on by a man in a white Porsche. His eyes glinted as he observed the quintet, matching them up with the images he carried in his mind. With a sneer he leaned back, looking to the passenger he had with him.

"That's the one," he smirked. "The brunette girl, Ayumi Yoshida." Raven black locks fell to his shoulders and over his face, half-hiding the piercing blue eyes. He reached for a cigar and clipped off the end thoughtfully, a look of satisfaction coming over his features as he thought about what was in store. The Ouroboros ring he was wearing caught the glint of the sunlight and glistened as he moved.

"But I still don't see the point," the woman next to him frowned, brushing strands of her pink-highlighted hair away from her face. "What do you want a little girl like that for?"

"It all leads back to revenge," he purred. "Indirectly, it was her fault that Yusuke Ushio was killed. Of course, I don't blame her for it. I blame the murderer. If he had minded his own business, then none of this would have happened." He lit the cigar and took a draw on it, anger flickering through his eyes. "I never approved of what Ushio did, mind you, but he didn't deserve what he was given. And I'm going to get back at the one who dealt him the hand of death."

"By taking the girl?" the passenger exclaimed in disbelief. "Look, whether he saved her once or not, he's still an assassin. One of the best, too. I don't want you messing with him." She gave him an angry look, her eyes glimmering. "You don't know what you're dealing with."

"Even hardened assassins have their weak points," the dark-haired man answered, "and I think I've found his. We get the girl, we bring him to us." He paused, his smirk only increasing. "And there are other trump cards we can play. We might be able to use his partner, for instance." He tapped the ashes out the window, observing as the children crossed the street. They were all so young and innocent, especially the Yoshida girl. He could understand why Ushio had been intrigued by her.

"How so?" the woman cried indignantly.

He put his cigar back in his mouth. "They've worked together for the better part of ten years. They have a certain trust and respect for each other, if nothing else. And with any possible relationship, I can find a way to twist it to my advantage."

Now she was starting to understand. "Turn them against each other, you mean?" she suggested.

He nodded thoughtfully. "Why not. It can definitely be done. I can shatter whatever pathetic rapport they share. They've been trained to be suspicious of everyone, so if they each think the other is a traitor, there's sure to be fireworks. With my manipulation, I may even get them to kill each other."

She blinked at him. "But I thought _you_ wanted to kill him, and lead him to us by using the girl," she retorted.

"But you see, I will be killing him," he smiled. "It's my work that will cause their alliance to fall apart, if it does." He grinned, starting the engine. "And it will."

She watched him, still unsure about this idea. "Are we taking the girl now?" she asked hesitantly.

"No," he mused, "not now. First, I'm going to do the manipulations that Ushio threatened to, but didn't follow through with." He maneuvered the car out of the parking space and down the street. "Besides, it would be too much of a hassle to try to grab her while her friends are all around. So first we shall concentrate on severing any ties between Ushio's murderer and his partner." He started to laugh, and it was a cruel, nasty sound.

* * *

Vodka sighed, leaning slightly against the steering wheel of the black Porsche. He and Gin had been waiting for some time now, expecting their target to return to his home, but so far there had not been any sign of anyone. Gin was extremely bored, and apparently tired, as he had instructed Vodka to keep watch and then had pulled his hat over his eyes as he had leaned back into the seat. He had not moved for several moments, and Vodka had the feeling that Gin was asleep. 

Gin would never dream of admitting it, but he was still not feeling well from being stabbed and poisoned several weeks earlier. Some of the other agents believed that he should not have resumed taking on assignments the very next week after it had happened, but Gin had been insistent. He was always stubborn that way, which could be exasperating at times. And yet, on the other hand, if he was not stubborn, he probably would not still be alive at all.

The ringing of his cellular phone started Vodka back into the present, and he answered it quickly before the sound could rouse his partner. "Hello?"

"Vodka, you sound like you're in a rush," Vermouth's voice purred.

Inwardly he groaned. "What is it, Vermouth?" he asked, turning to face the window.

"The man told me that after you eliminate the target, he's sending you to do something less . . . drastic." There was a long pause, and Vodka wondered whether she was doing it deliberately or if she was searching for whatever notes she might have on the mission. At last she spoke again. "He wants you to track down someone whom he wants as a replacement informant for Ushio."

Vodka did not like the sound of that, though he doubted that any replacement could be as treacherous as Ushio himself. "Who does he have in mind?" he wondered.

"I have the name here . . . Ling Hi Sou?" Vermouth frowned, staring at her palm pilot and wondering if she was seeing correctly. But then she saw that she was and nodded in approval. "He lives at the Hiragi apartment complex in town."

"Okay." Vodka mentally memorized this. "What's so great about him?" he wanted to know.

He heard a click as Vermouth lighted a cigarette. "He's supposed to have a lot of the same connections that Ushio had, apparently. Anyway, the man wants you to go talk to him as soon as possible." Another pause. "How's Gin doing?"

"He's alright," Vodka replied immediately. He would never tell Vermouth of his concerns that Gin was still unwell, and he knew Gin would never want him to, either. Glancing at the blonde, he started in surprise to see Gin looking over at him from behind his unruly bangs. But then again, he supposed it should not be a surprise. Gin was a light sleeper, especially in the car, and he was skilled at moving around silently, so as not to allow anyone to realize he was doing so. It came from his training as an assassin. Apparently he had been woken up now by Vodka's conversation with Vermouth. He appeared somewhat annoyed by that, as well. Or maybe it was just that he was still trying to fully awaken.

Vermouth smirked. "Yes, I'm certain he is . . . or at least, that he wants you to think so. Well, I'll let you get to your assignment." With that, she hung up.

Gin grunted. "What was that about?" he demanded, pushing his hat back further on his head.

"Vermouth wondered how you were doing," Vodka told him, shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm fine." He looked at his ally searchingly. "Is that all she wanted?" Somehow he doubted it. Vermouth was annoying, but he did not think that she would bother to call Vodka just to find out the latest news. She would be too busy.

"After we off this guy, we're supposed to go find a new informant," Vodka said reluctantly, and informed him of the rest of Vermouth's message. He was not sure how Gin was going to react to the news, but the extent of the green-eyed man's response was to look irritated and light a cigarette.

"I don't care what this person is involved in, or who he is," Gin remarked, seeing Vodka looking at him questioningly. "Even if he's someone like Ushio, we're going to have to deal with it." Secretly he had to hope that Ling was not a bit like his hated and now dead nemesis. It revolted him, to even have to acknowledge the existence of such people. But then he did not spend time thinking more about it, as he caught sight of their target going up the long and winding driveway of his manor. Gin pulled his gun out as he started to exit the car.

Vodka followed him, having noted the extreme revulsion in Gin's eyes and voice. The blonde did care, actually, but he was growing weary and Vodka knew that what he was saying was true. Aside from their personal preferences, if Ling was indeed another pedophile, they would have to make due with that, just as they had for ages with Ushio. "Bro?" he asked hesitantly.

Gin glanced back slightly as they made their way over to the yard.

"Do you regret saving that kid?" Vodka had sometimes wondered if Gin did. Since then, there had been a certain tense side to his personality that had not been there before. Vodka had the feeling that whatever ghosts from the past Ayumi had dredged up, Gin was still being haunted by them.

Gin scaled the brick wall and jumped down noiselessly on the other side, then waited for Vodka before replying. "No," he said flatly as his comrade came down beside him.

* * *

It was not long before their business was taken care of and they were off to the Hiragi apartments to find Ling Hi Sou. Vermouth had not provided an apartment number, but they managed to find it soon enough and were quickly on their way to the fifth floor. Gin was silent on the elevator, as usual, and Vodka was as well, though he wondered what to expect. Someone around Ushio's age? Older? Younger? Someone like Ushio, with a sickeningly smooth personality and who always seemed to have something up his sleeve, or someone cold and reserved, like Gin? 

Vodka glanced at Gin again as they got off the elevator. His eyes were dark, and it was impossible to know what was going through his mind, but Vodka assumed that he was wondering about the possible informant as well. He had become more rigid and edgy since first departing for the apartments, a sure sign that he was thinking a lot more about it than he wanted to let on.

After they rang the doorbell, it seemed to take a long stretch of time before anyone answered. Gin grew annoyed and started to toy with the cigarette case in his pocket, even though the hallway was a no smoking area. "He's making a bad impression," he growled, tempted to simply pull out a cigarette and light it.

At that moment the door was flung open and they were greeted by a surprised, blonde girl sporting pink highlights in her hair. She blinked at them both and then suddenly smiled in realization. "Oh! You're the people Ling said would be coming," she realized, and held the door open for them. "You know," she mused then, her voice dropping an octave or two, "you're both kinda cute."

Vodka felt himself starting to blush in consternation, but before Gin could make some sort of curt reply, Ling Hi Sou entered the room. He took in everything quickly, his gaze resting sharply on them both, but longer on Gin. His black hair fell to his shoulders, and his blue eyes gleamed like ice. Gin took note of the ring on his right hand.

"So . . . you're the businessmen from the Organization whom I was told to expect?" he said at last, and his voice was friendly, yet serious.

"That's right," Gin answered. As usual, he planned to do most of the talking, and Vodka was fine with that. Gin was a natural leader. Vodka preferred to follow.

Ling nodded slowly. "Sit down, won't you?" he said with a gesture, indicating the various expensive couches and chairs. They picked a couch and sat on it, and then Ling did as well, on one opposite them. A glass coffee table was between the two sofas. Ling leaned forward, almost touching it as he studied Gin and Vodka. They studied him in return, still not completely satisfied.

"What kind of information is it you can give us?" Gin queried at last. "We were led to believe that you have access to the same things Yusuke Ushio did."

He watched as the unnamed woman walked around the room and finally leaned on the couch that Ling had occupied. She seemed anxious about something, but Gin was not certain why. She would give Ling concerned looks---or were they obsessive, possessive looks?---and then let her gaze wander around the room before falling on Gin and Vodka. After staring at them for a moment, the whole process would repeat again. Gin wondered if he should try talking to her later in private. It seemed very strange. Did she think that Ling was in some sort of danger---or vice versa? And if so, why?

In any case, Ling seemed not to notice her behavior, nor the attention it was getting. "That's right," he agreed now, and proceeded to give them several examples of valuable information, involving possible traitors, locations for future bases, and good places to get needed weapons. It was the same sort of thing that Ushio had provided, with his connections, and he had almost always been right. At last Gin nodded in approval.

"You can be useful," he said, "and hopefully moreso than Ushio was." He took notice of a dark look that passed through Ling's eyes at this comment, but then it was gone again and he smiled, though Gin thought it looked forced. And while this was going on, Vodka noticed an alarmed expression in the woman's eyes, which remained.

"It's a tragedy . . . what happened to Ushio," Ling remarked then. "He served as a loyal informant for your organization for years, and then, suddenly he was killed."

The tension in the air was so strong that Vodka could feel it. When he glanced at Gin, he knew that the blonde felt it too. Something was very wrong.

"He got too full of himself to be of much use," Gin grunted. "When you forget your position, that's when you've set up your own downfall." He lit a cigarette, staying on edge.

"Yes," Ling mused then. "That's very true, Agent Gin. Very true indeed." He gave the other a piercing look, which was returned, and for a long moment they simply stayed like that, staring harshly at each other. Vodka had to wonder what was passing between them.

But then, just as before, the mood was broken and Ling smiled, as if he was another person. "Now, let's discuss payment," he declared.

* * *

Gin was again silent on the way back down from Ling's apartment, gazing off into the city that was visible from the glass elevator. He did not like Ling, and it seemed that the feeling was mutual. Gin had sensed something from him, a very strong hatred. But he did not know whether it was directed at only him, or if it extended to Vodka, or even to the entire Organization. Some of their informants were very mercenary, only wanting the money but hating those that gave it out. 

"Bro?"

He glanced over at Vodka, who looked anxious.

"What did you think of that guy?"

Gin took a draw on his current cigarette. "I don't like him," he replied flatly. "He's different from Ushio, but I think he's dangerous in another way. He's got a lot of pent-up anger and hate, and one of these days he'll probably let it out." His eyes narrowed. "It wouldn't bother me, except that it felt like it was directed at us, or maybe just me. That could be a problem in the future." He leaned against the wall of the elevator.

"Do you not want to let him in?" Vodka wondered if it was a good idea, in light of what he and Gin had both felt.

"I wouldn't, except for that proverb about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer," Gin answered. "I want to be able to know at least some of the time what he's up to, and having him serve as an informant is the best way to do that." The elevator stopped and he got out, followed closely by his comrade.

"But . . . if you think he hates us, he might try to give us false information," Vodka objected, wondering exactly what Gin was thinking. So much of the time it was hard to know, and sometimes it almost seemed that the blonde was out of his mind, but it generally seemed to turn out that he had been several steps ahead of everyone else all along. Vodka hoped that was true now.

"That's why I'm going to double-check everything he tells us," Gin vowed as they got outside to the black Porsche. "He won't have the satisfaction of getting the better of us."

He looked thoughtful. "And I want to have a talk with that girl, too," he remarked. "Did you see how nervous she was while we were talking?"

Vodka nodded. "And especially when Ushio got mentioned," he said, opening the driver's door. Since Gin had been poisoned, Vodka had been doing most of the driving, and so he automatically went to do that again now. Gin did not object, and got in the passenger side.

"I'd like to know what kind of connection they had with him," the blonde grumbled, leaning back against the seat as they drove away. "There must have been something, for Hi Sou to feel as strongly as he did. And did you notice his ring? It's the same as the tattoo that one of Ushio's men had."

Vodka glanced at him worriedly. "Do you think maybe Hi Sou worked for him?" he wondered.

Gin glowered into the distance. "I don't know," he replied. "It's hard to say. It could just be a coincidence about the ring. But I'm going to look into it." And somehow, he doubted very much that it was just coincidence.

* * *

Once the two operatives had departed, Ling shut the door and looked to the woman with an expression of triumph. "This is going even better than I thought it would," he smirked. "By getting information for them, I can set things up to make it look like each has turned traitor, and they won't question it." He came closer, running a hand down her cheek. "Then we'll have a fitting revenge for Yusuke Ushio's death." He laughed. "They think they're in control, but they won't be." 

She tried to smile back, but the sinking feeling in her stomach would not go away. "I think we're dealing with a lot of things that are over our heads," she said hesitantly. "I really think those guys are smarter than you give them credit for." And she had seen Gin's cold eyes. If he found out what Ling was doing, she was certain he would not hesitate to dispose of him. She did not want to see that happen.

He pulled back, frowning. "Oh, no, I know they're smart," he retorted. "That's the point. I have to craft something appropriate for them, as much to show that I acknowledge their intelligence as to repay them for killing Ushio. Just wait. I'm going to challenge them, and win." He looked out the window as he spoke, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was determined to win. If he failed . . . well, then, it would only prove that he had not been worthy to take up the challenge in the first place.


	2. Phone Calls

**Notes: Finally, some inspiration to continue this story! The readers can thank a picture I was drawing earlier.**

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**Chapter Two**

The following day, Ayumi sighed softly as she came home from school and unlocked the front door. It was much nicer living in the two-story house than in the highrise apartment complex where she and her parents had been before, but when she was the first to get home, a silent house was much lonelier and more empty than a silent apartment. She had made this observation before and she made it again now as she removed her shoes and wandered through the living room.

As she climbed the stairs and entered her room, setting her bookbag on the floor, she could not help but wonder what had happened to the man who was been her rescuer nearly two months ago. It seemed very sad to her that he had to live as an assassin in order to stay alive himself. In spite of that, she still thought very highly of him, and of his partner. She felt certain that they were both still good people, deep down, as she had told them on a night that seemed so long past now. Conan had tried several times to tell her that they were both terrible people, but she could not believe it, not after how they had treated her. She hoped that they were both still safe.

With a sigh she sank onto her bed and lay on it, gazing up at the ceiling. She could tell that Conan still loved Ran, and that made her sad both because she wanted Conan to love her and because she knew that Conan would be disappointed once Ran's Shinichi came back. Then she wondered if it could be at all possible that Conan felt jealous of Ayumi's "Gin-sama." Perhaps that was why he was so insistent on convincing her that Gin was a bad person.

But then she sighed again. No, it was probably just because of Conan's strong sense of justice. He probably did not want her to be enamored by a criminal. It was not that Ayumi found Gin to be justified in what he did, however, but just that she felt that he could not be entirely wicked in spite of it. He had risked so much to protect her, and Vodka had, as well. They both could have died.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jangling of the telephone, and with a blink, she sat up and hurried into the hall to answer it. "Hello?" she said softly once she had lifted the receiver, and waited for the other person to respond. She could hear light breathing on the other end of the receiver, but no one spoke and she bit her lip nervously. "Hello?" she repeated.

There was a click as the phone was hung up. Ayumi drew the receiver away from her ear, looking at it, and then set it down as well. It was probably just a wrong number, she decided, and did not want to think more about it.

And yet she knew that Conan probably would. He might wonder if it could be someone checking to make certain that someone was home, perhaps a robber who wanted to break in and steal something. Suddenly anxious, she grabbed up the phone again and began dialing Conan's number. She would feel better if she talked to him about this.

* * *

Ayumi was not the only one receiving bizarre telephone calls. While Gin and Vodka were at the sidewalk café, Vodka's cellular phone suddenly rang. Startled by the noise, Vodka quickly unfolded it and answered. Gin calmly lit a cigarette. 

"I know where you are right now," an unfamiliar voice proclaimed, and Vodka was stunned. "I need to tell you something, but in confidence. Stand up and move away from your partner."

Finally finding his voice, Vodka exclaimed, "Who is this?" It seemed very strange for someone to know his number and call, then demand something so ridiculous. He did not keep telephone calls secret from Gin. Even if he stepped away, Gin would ask him later who that had been and why Vodka had left. And if Vodka sidestepped the issue, it would look bad for him.

"That doesn't matter right now. I know your cell phone number, don't I? That hasn't leaked out to anyone who isn't allied with the Black Organization. Once you know what I have to tell you, you'll understand why I didn't want your partner to overhear any of this. Just step away."

Vodka swallowed hard, glancing to Gin. The blonde was watching him expressionlessly, but Vodka could see the slightest flicker of interest in his eyes. As he finally started to get up, the interest changed to suspicion, and Vodka groaned inwardly as he walked over near the side of the building. "He's already suspicious," he said into the phone with exasperation. "What's the point of this?"

"Maybe you should be suspicious yourself," came the frank reply.

Vodka frowned. "What do you mean?" he demanded, getting a very bad feeling about this.

"How well do you trust your partner?"

Vodka's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "I don't have to answer that," he said at last.

"Of course not. But I already know, anyway. You trust him more than anyone else you know. You have to, or else you would never get anything done. You have to trust that if any difficulties come up, he will watch your back, as you would do for him." There was a pause. "And yet . . . yet you still wonder, don't you. You wonder if he will abandon you some time when you need him most. He's ruthless, he's cold, he's trained to be a killer, as you were too, of course. And if it would help him to sacrifice you, you still wonder if he would, don't you."

Vodka gripped the phone tightly. "Just get to the point," he said, his voice gaining a bit of an edge. He did not appreciate being interrogated in this way. His feelings about Gin and his insecurities were his own business. This stranger did not have any right to pry into things.

"My point is that maybe that's exactly how he feels," came the smooth reply. "Haven't you noticed a . . . change in his personality lately? He's more tense, more closed than even before. Maybe he's working against you, and even the Organization."

Vodka stiffened. "He wouldn't do that!" he cried harshly. "He's loyal to the Organization."

"Alright, even if so, maybe he's tired of you. Maybe he thinks someone else could help him better. Maybe he wants to get rid of you, make it look like an accident, and then get someone else assigned to him."

Vodka pushed back any doubts he had that were starting to resurface. "I don't have to listen to this, especially if you won't tell me who you are!" he declared.

"We'll be in touch," came the promise. "I just thought I should warn you. I don't have any proof of his motives yet, but trust me, I soon will. And while I'm getting it, you can be on your guard. Don't tell him of our conversation, even if you still believe him to be loyal to you. You don't want to find out the hard way that I was right, do you?" Abruptly there was a click.

Vodka pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. That was definitely bizarre and out of nowhere. Or was it? Had someone seen that he did, indeed, have doubts over Gin's loyalty to him? He did not want to think that Gin would ever turn against him. Surely Gin was content enough with their partnership, after so many years. He would not try to get Vodka killed in order to get someone different. That was absurd. Gin would be disgusted that someone would even try to make it look like he would do that. And he would also be disgusted if he thought Vodka believed any part of it.

Slowly Vodka put the phone back in his pocket and turned to go back to the table. It was true that he had always held doubts over what Gin actually thought of him, but that was not the same as believing that Gin would betray him. And he definitely did not believe that for one moment.

Gin was closing up his own phone when Vodka approached, which the shorter man was surprised about. "Who was on the phone?" he asked as he got up from the table.

Vodka suddenly felt apprehensive. He wanted to simply tell Gin what the odd caller had said, and be done with it, and yet even though he did not want them to, the words lingered in his mind. _"How well do you trust your partner?" "If it would help him sacrifice you, you still wonder if he would, don't you." "Haven't you noticed a . . . change in his personality lately?" "Don't tell him of our conversation, even if you still believe him to be loyal to you."_

Gin grunted in annoyance. "Well?" He studied Vodka, his emerald eyes piercing through the sunglasses, as usual.

Vodka swallowed hard. "It was . . . a wrong number," he said at last.

Gin raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Vodka nodded, relieved as he saw that they were arriving back at the car.

"And he told you to leave the table because he thought you were someone else?" Gin remarked as he unlocked the car and got in the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Vodka nodded, and then blinked. "Bro, I thought I was driving," he said slowly as he bent down to look in the window.

Gin placed a cigarette in his mouth. "I decided that I am again," he replied. "I'm well enough." He lighted it, looking to Vodka impatiently. "Get in!" he barked.

Vodka started, a bit surprised by the other's sudden harsh tone of voice. Quickly he opened the car door and climbed in, then shut it after him. He had the feeling that Gin knew he was being lied to. But if that was so, Gin did not make mention of it. Vodka wondered if that was more of a concern than if Gin had said something.

Gin watched him coldly, his eyes narrowed. He wondered exactly what the person who had called had been getting at when he had said that Gin should keep a closer watch on Vodka. Gin did not appreciate being told that he did not know what his own partner was up to. And yet, in light of the telephone conversation that Vodka had been having, Gin had to wonder.

_"It's strange, isn't it?" the mysterious caller remarked once Gin had said Hello. "That your ally would get up and leave the table to take a phone call? I didn't think he kept things like that from you."_

_Gin growled. "I don't see that it's your business one way or another," he retorted. "How do you even know what he's doing right now? And who are you?"_

_"Let's just say I'm a friend, and I've been watching you both for a while."_

_Gin was annoyed. "I don't have friends," he snapped. He watched Vodka while he was talking. It seemed to him that Vodka did not like the conversation he was having. The other man looked edgy and nervous, and he seemed to be talking in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard by anyone . . . and Gin wondered if Vodka counted Gin himself among those whom he did not want listening. He must, or he would not have left the table._

_"Oh no, of course not," the caller said now. "Assassins can't afford to have friends. Though, Vodka is probably the closest thing to a friend that you do have. And in any case, you do find this telephone call of his suspicious, don't you?" There was a pause. "Maybe the reason why he doesn't want you to hear is because he's talking about you."_

_Gin narrowed his eyes. "That's ridiculous," he grunted._

_"He was worried about you rescuing that girl, wasn't he? Maybe one of the higher-ups found out about it and Vodka is now trying to clear his own name in the Ushio fiasco by throwing all the blame onto you."_

_Gin was tempted to simply hang up on this person. "You don't have any proof of what you're saying," he retorted. Then he frowned darkly. "Wait a minute. How do you know about the girl?" He had not thought that anyone other than himself and Vodka and Ayumi herself knew all of the details of that escapade. The thought that someone else might was indeed a matter of concern._

_"I have my ways. Remember, I said I've been watching you both."_

_"I don't like being watched," Gin snapped. "I don't care what your reason is."_

_"No, but I'm sure you can't deny that you've been suspicious of Vodka sometimes. And why not? I'm sure you haven't forgotten the mailroom incident, when he took it upon himself to change the already established plans. You can't trust anyone, even the one person whom you actually need to rely on in your business."_

_"I can't trust you, either," Gin replied in a bored tone._

_"Just wait until he hangs up and comes back to you. When you ask him who was calling, he will lie and give you an outlandish explanation. He doesn't want you to know who he's speaking with or what's being spoken about, and the chances are, it's about you. Maybe you need to consider that he isn't the loyal admiring comrade you think he is. Maybe he has his own secret ambitions, and by getting rid of you through whatever means necessary, he can move up the corporate ladder, so to speak, and perhaps even take over your current position."_

_Gin rolled his eyes. "That would never happen," he said flatly. "He's a lower-level agent for a reason."_

_"So you think. But I'm saying it could all be a facade. You know how sometimes the quiet, seemingly shy types turn out to be . . . qute deadly."_

_"Thanks for the enlightenment," Gin retorted, and hung up without so much as a goodbye._

And yet, Gin thought to himself as he revved the engine, things had happened as the caller had said. Vodka had lied. That was obvious. He would not be talking to a wrong number for as long as he had been. Whoever it was had wanted to talk to Vodka. There had not been a mistake.

"Bro?"

Gin glanced over at the man whom he thought was his ally. "What?"

"Who were you talking to?" Vodka asked hesitantly.

Gin grunted and looked ahead. "I might tell you, if you tell me who you were actually talking to," he replied. "I don't believe it was a wrong number."

Vodka took to studying the floor of the car, at a loss for words.

The rest of the drive proceeded in silence, with each wondering about the other and the significance of the strange calls they had received. Were they true . . . or not? Neither wanted to believe that the other was a traitor. After all the time that they had known each other, Gin felt that he knew Vodka quite well. Though Vodka was often not certain that he could say the same about Gin. And after these phone calls, neither was sure at all about the other, though they would not admit it. But a wedge had been driven between them. Usually Vodka did not mind the silence in the car. Now it seemed deafening.

* * *

Conan was very concerned when Ayumi told him about the strange call---and more so when she said that it had happened again during dinner. Ayumi had not been able to reach him on the phone until after that, and she explained how her mother had answered the phone and no one had said anything to her. Conan had told her to let him know as soon as it happened again, if it did, and then called Ai. 

"Do you think that the Black Organization is responsible?" the chemist asked him, holding the phone to her shoulder as she fixed sandwiches for herself and Dr. Agasa.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past them," Conan answered after a slight hesitation. "Ayumi's always talking about how Gin saved her. Maybe he wants to use that to his advantage now. Are you sure he thought that he didn't really see you when you saw him at that café?"

"He thought he was hallucinating," Ai replied, slicing some cheese. "I heard him tell Vodka that it was a ghost from the past." She frowned. "Are you thinking that he might use Ayumi to get at me?" she asked.

"If he thought she had any connection with you, I wouldn't put it past him at all," Conan said with a firm nod, even though that could not be seen over the phone.

"I don't see how he would find out," Ai said, moving on to cut up the tomatoes. "But it does worry me, the way Ayumi looks up to him so much. If she ever learns what he really is like, and what he's done, she would be crushed and disillusioned."

"Maybe," Conan frowned. "But she already knows that he's a killer, and that doesn't make her think any less of him for saving her." He hesitated. "I almost think she thinks more of him because she does know that he's an assassin and yet he let her live, and apparently tried repeatedly to protect her."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Ai spread the mayonnaise on the slices of bread, then carefully arranged the cheese and tomatoes, and the lettuce. "I'd still like to know why he did that."

"I would, too." Conan's eyes narrowed darkly. "I can't believe that he did it just to be kind. He could have been killed in that fire." He thought over what he remembered Ayumi telling him. "And Vodka was there, too, but she doesn't remember seeing him after they got out of the house."

"Do you think he was injured in the fire?" Ai wondered, placing the top slices of bread over the lettuce and then stepping back to survey her work. "We know he survived, since I saw him with Gin at the café."

"It's possible," Conan agreed. "People like him, and Gin, don't go down easily, but they get injured frequently. They might be laying low while they recover."

"I know," Ai said quietly, placing the sandwiches on separate plates. "Kudo, I want to know if Ayumi gets any more strange calls."

"I told her to call me if she does," Conan answered, "and then I'll call you."

They hung up shortly after this, but their conversation remained on Ai's mind as she took the professor's sandwich to him. She was not certain who was calling Ayumi, or if she believed that it was the Black Organization. She did not think it seemed their style, to place such prank calls. But if it was not the Black Organization, then who would it be? And why? In any case, she felt that it was something to be concerned about.


	3. Meetings

**Chapter Three**

The rest of the evening and night passed by in relative peace, as did the next two weeks. However, as Ayumi was walking home from school a fortnight after the odd telephone calls, she suddenly caught sight of someone who looked familiar to her. Perking up, she ventured around a nearby hedge to try to catch the other. "Vodka-san!" she called, seeing him vanish into an unfamiliar house. Biting her lip, she moved closer to the open front door to look inside.

She wondered why Vodka would be here, in this neighborhood, and if Gin was with him. The chance of getting to see the blonde again made her hopeful enough that she crept in through the doorway and stood uncertainly in the hall. No one was in sight, and everything seemed perfectly quiet. Too quiet. Suddenly the thought occurred to her that maybe if Vodka was here, it was to kill someone. And that was not something she wanted to see. Deciding that perhaps fleeing would be the best course of action, she turned to do so---and instead was greeted with a gun. She let out a gasp.

Vodka looked down at her coldly, though she could not see his eyes behind the infamous sunglasses. "You shouldn't be in here," he remarked, reaching for her.

She started to back up, confusion in her blue eyes. "I . . . I just wanted to see you, Vodka-san . . . and Gin-sama," she stammered, swallowing hard. "Is Gin-sama with you?" She tried to look around him, but he stepped forward and took hold of her arm, twisting it painfully.

"No, he isn't," Vodka answered. "And you're going to come with me for a ride." She struggled, but he held her firmly and pointed the gun at her with his other hand. There was no compassion this time, nor any sign of the uneasiness he had once had around her. He was cold and indifferent and uncaring.

"Why are you doing this, Vodka-san?" she cried, shaking in terror. Tears filled her innocent blue eyes. She could not understand. This was not the quiet and shy man she remembered. This man seemed a stranger. And all she wanted now was to get away.

"You've seen too much," he answered, "and you're a nuisance." He pulled her along to the back door and then hit her over the head with the handle of the gun, not extremely hard, but enough to badly daze her. He could not have her screaming for help, after all. Then he laid her on the floor while he bound her wrists and feet and placed a gag in her mouth. Smirking, he lifted the limp body into his arms and carried her outside to where the white Porsche was parked.

This child, whom Gin had risked his life for in the past, was his trump card. And if she believed that he was Vodka, and told that to Gin, the blonde was certain to believe her. And there would not be anything that Vodka could do about it.

* * *

Ling's plan involved having the real Vodka be away at this point. Gin's partner would not have an alibi for the time when Ayumi would say that she had been taken. Vodka had been contacted by one of Ling's associates and told to meet elsewhere in town, where the contact would provide him with the proof of Gin's "treachery." Then, Ling felt certain, no one would believe Vodka when he would try to explain. And if he actually did say what he had been up to, the chances were that Gin would believe that Vodka himself had put together the "evidence" against him.

And so it was that Vodka mysteriously vanished during the afternoon, leaving Gin to wander around the Black Organization's base in irritation. He was tempted to take the Porsche and go after him, or at least to try to contact him on his cellular phone, especially after the strange calls from two weeks before. Vodka had not given an explanation as to where he was off to before he had apparently left the base, and Gin was highly annoyed.

He and Vodka had barely spoken to each other after the calls they had taken. Gin had been certain that Vodka had been upset about something in connection with the call, but he had not been able to get his ally to say anything except the wrong number story. A few times Vodka had acted as though he wanted to say something else, but then had not. Something was holding him back. He seemed nervous and almost afraid of something.

_Is he afraid of me?_ Gin wondered as he sat in the living room of the suite they shared, smoking a cigarette. _Or could he be working against me and he's afraid of what will happen if I find out?_ His eyes narrowed. He would not believe that he had known Vodka for years and had been deceived the entire time. Vodka was loyal to him. Sometimes Gin had the feeling that Vodka even perhaps cared about him. Surely he was not so gullible that he would be led to think that if it was not the truth.

Abruptly his cell phone rang and he was startled out of his thoughts. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed and unfolded it and held it up to his ear. "Hello?" he said gruffly.

"Agent Gin?"

Gin blinked in surprise, recognizing Ling Hi Sou's manner of greeting. "What is it?" he demanded.

"There's a situation here," Ling answered grimly, and Gin became aware that he could hear crying in the background.

"What's that noise?" Gin growled. "Where are you---a day-care center?"

"No," Ling replied, and Gin could hear a car door slam. "I was out talking to some of my contacts, and one of them mentioned hearing someone crying in this old warehouse where they store some of their stuff. When we went inside, there was this little kid tied up in a crate. She kept saying that 'Vodka-san' took her, and she kept asking for 'Gin-sama'. She still is, actually." He glanced over to where Ayumi was sitting on the seat next to him in the car, sobbing.

Gin froze, his eyes widening in shock. _Gin-sama. . . ._ There was only one who called him that. But the thought of Vodka taking her was absurd! It would not happen. He had been so uncomfortable around Ayumi when she had been with them before. And he would not have a logical reason to take her. Gin had not ordered it, and Vodka would not go against Gin's wishes. "Where are you?" he demanded, getting up and heading for the door. Memories of the notorious mailroom incident swirled through his mind as he did, and he narrowed his eyes in vexation.

"I'm coming back into the main part of the city," Ling replied. "What do you want me to do with this kid?"

Gin walked into the hall and shut the door behind him. "Go to Hyde Park," he answered. "I'll meet you there." He was not certain what he would do after arriving, especially if Ayumi continued to insist that Vodka had taken her. It did not make sense! And yet he doubted Ayumi would say anything that she did not honestly believe, and why would she believe Vodka had taken her if he had not?

Where the devil _was _Vodka, anyway?

As Gin hung up with Ling, he began to dial Vodka's cell phone number. He only grew more frustrated when he could not get an answer. Something was definitely wrong, whether Vodka had abducted Ayumi or not.

* * *

As it turned out, Vodka was meeting his contact at that moment, at a rundown apartment house. He was feeling anxious and on edge, and against his better judgement he had done what the person wanted and had kept his cell phone off. The last thing they wanted was to be interrupted, or so the contact had said. And Vodka supposed he could see the logic in that, though on the other hand he knew Gin would be furious.

He still did not believe that Gin had betrayed him. It was too ridiculous, was it not? Vodka clenched a fist in despair as he wandered down the decrepit and dark hallway. Yes, Gin had been more aloof even than usual, but that did not mean anything. He was just upset because of the memories that the Ayumi girl had brought to the forefront of his mind. That was all. But Vodka still wanted to see what this person would say to back up his claims. He just hoped Gin would forgive him for it later.

Abruptly he heard a loud squeak and he started, backing up as a large rat darted past him. He watched it in disgust and decided that he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible, for more reasons than one.

Then, to his relief, he saw the correct apartment up ahead and to his right. Quickly he went to the door and knocked, then waited until it was opened a crack. An unfamiliar man with shoulder-length brown hair peered out cautiously, and upon seeing Vodka, pushed it open further. "Hurry and come in!" he directed, and practically hauled Vodka inside before he could reply. Then he shut the door behind them.

Vodka looked around at the dimly lit room, noticing the cracks in the ceiling and on the walls, and the cobwebs hanging down that the tenant had neglected to remove. Ducking under the nearest one so that it would not catch on his hat, he gave the person a cold stare. "You said that you had proof that my partner is working against me," he said now. "I'd like to see it."

"You'll hear it," the strange man nodded, and went over to an elaborate tape player. "I have his cell phone tapped, and I got this conversation recorded where he talks about what he thinks of you." He looked up at Vodka sympathetically. "I'm sorry about this, I really am, but it's better that you know the truth," he declared, and hit the Play button. After a moment of static, voices loudly filled the room as hellos were exchanged, and the person hastily adjusted the volume.

"I don't like being watched," Gin's voice growled after the greetings. "I know he's doing that."

"But Vodka is the closest thing to a friend you have," the other, unfamiliar voice objected.

"I don't have friends," Gin snapped. "You don't have any proof of what you're saying."

"But he's a loyal, admiring comrade."

"Thanks for the enlightenment. And that's ridiculous. I don't care about . . ."

"I didn't think you . . ."

"I don't see that it's your business one way or another." Abruptly there was a click as the conversation ended.

The man looked up at Vodka, seeing his stunned expression. "I know, it must be hard to accept," he said apologetically. "I was alarmed when I got it recorded and heard what he thought of you. Apparently whoever he was talking to was trying to convince him of how you really are, and he wouldn't accept it."

Vodka frowned darkly. "It doesn't prove that he's betrayed me," he said then. "It sounds more like he thinks _I_ betrayed _him!_" And he could not understand how Gin would get that idea. Vodka could not think of anything he had done that would cause Gin to think that, unless it could have been the telephone call from before. "When did you record this?" he demanded.

"An afternoon two weeks ago," the brunette replied, and Vodka suddenly remembered that Gin had been on the phone at the same time Vodka had been. "I'm afraid, though," he continued now, "he really has betrayed you. Yesterday I intercepted this email he was sending to the person he was talking on the phone to." With that he led Vodka over to his computer and brought up an authentic-looking email, which Vodka perused in shock.

_**Vodka is no longer useful. He's become a threat. And you know how I handle**_

_**threats. He's going to have to die.**_

Vodka swallowed hard, glaring at the message on the screen. It had been sent from Gin's email address, and of course, all of the operatives' emails were highly encrypted. Not just anyone could break into them. But it still seemed to him that there was something phony about the entire thing. He wanted to confront Gin about it. "Give me a printout of this," he ordered.

The other man blinked at him, as if not comprehending. "A printout?" he repeated then. "Why?"

"I'm going to take it and show it to Gin. The tape, too." Vodka started to reach for the computer mouse, but without warning his hand was slapped away.

"You can't!" was the almost panicked reply. "He'll kill you for sure! Your only hope is to kill him first!"

Vodka grabbed the boy and physically moved him away from the keyboard. "Well, I'm going to find out," he retorted, and clicked the Print button on the screen. "I'm not going to lose faith in him this easily. Anyone could have faked this email to make it look like Gin sent it."

"But not the telephone conversation!" the brunette exclaimed from his new position on the floor. "Even if someone was faking it, why would they?"

"I don't know," Vodka answered, grabbing the sheet of paper as it ejected from the printer. "I'm going to talk to my _partner_ about it." He emphasized the word "partner" for several reasons, meaning that he still considered Gin to be his partner, and that he was tired of discussing the matter with other people. He should have gone to Gin in the first place. He hoped that it was not too late. Perhaps if Gin had already been suspicious of him, that phone call had been the final straw. Vodka wished he had simply told Gin the truth, despite the caller's warnings against it.

The boy watched as Vodka removed the tape and left. He had been told that if Vodka attempted to do what he had just done, that it was to be allowed. To not let him to take the materials would be suspicious. Ling apparently had more tricks in mind, most likely with changing Gin's opinion. And if that could be done, it would not matter as much what Vodka's view was. If Gin could be made to feel that Vodka was a traitor, it would be very hard to discourage him with the truth.

* * *

It did not take Gin long to find Ling's car in Hyde Park. It was a Porsche as well, only white. If Ling had not told him what to expect, Gin would have been stunned by the sight of it at first. As it was, he simply parked behind it and got out, then walked over to it and looked in the passenger window, which was rolled down partway.

He was startled when a small form suddenly leaped up and looked back out at him. "Gin-sama!" Ayumi cried in delight, her blue eyes sparkling. There were still traces of tears on her face, but she ignored them as she rolled the window down the rest of the way and climbed out, throwing her arms around his neck. He fell back slightly, even more startled by this, and for a moment looked as though he did not know what to do about it. But then he regained his composure and reached up, loosening her embrace as he lowered her to the ground. She did not seem to mind, and instead looked up at him, as if in awe that she was actually seeing him again.

Ling shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Gin was actually quite gentle with her, even though he did not seem to know what to think about her affections. "She really likes you," he remarked. "I never would have thought it of you, Agent Gin."

_Neither would I,_ Gin muttered silently, and bent down to be at eye level with the child. "What happened to you?" he demanded. "Hi Sou told me that you've been saying Vodka took you."

Ayumi bit her lip, sadness flickering in her eyes again. "He did," she said softly. "It was awful, Gin-sama. . . . He . . . he hurt me. . . ." Tears filled her eyes again as she looked at the blonde assassin. "He grabbed my arm and pulled me . . . and he hit me with his gun. . . . He said I was a nuisance and that I saw too much. But I didn't see anything, Gin-sama!" she cried, the crystalline drops spilling over her cheeks. "I just saw him in that house, and I thought you might be there too, so I went over to see. And then he got mad!"

Gin frowned deeply. "What house?" he wanted to know.

She tried to think. "Well . . . it's on the way back from school," she said slowly. "It has a hedge around it, and it's kinda pink and there's flowers in the garden and along the walkway. It's pretty!" She smiled weakly, but it soon faded. "Gin-sama . . . why would he treat me like that?" she said softly. "I didn't do anything wrong. . . . I just wanted to see him . . . and you." From her crushed expression and the way she looked at Gin so pitifully, he could tell that she felt as though she had been betrayed by a dear friend. And his eyes narrowed.

For some reason that he did not understand, it made him angry---the thought that she had been mistreated, and especially by Vodka. And yet, he still did not see how it could be. He believed that she had seen what she said she had, but he could not comprehend that Vodka was actually responsible. He wondered if there could be another explanation.

Slowly he straightened up, looking out at the park. "I don't know," he growled, "but I'm going to find out."

"Are you going to take the kid with you then?" Ling asked, leaning on his steering wheel.

Gin nodded coldly and turned to go back to his car, then stopped. "What contact of yours was it who heard her crying?" he asked.

"One of my weapons dealers, as I mentioned," Ling replied. "I don't like to give out the names whenever possible." He smirked slightly. "I'm sure you can understand, Agent Gin?"

Gin grunted, opening the door of the black Porsche. "Fine. But I may want to talk to him later," he replied.

Ayumi glanced back to him. "Goodbye, Hi Sou-san!" she called, and waved as she got into the passenger side.

Ling watched after them thoughtfully. "When she trusts me like that, I feel like a heel for dragging her into this," he muttered to himself, rolling up the windows of his own car and revving the engine. But then he did not think more about the matter. He was determined to do whatever it took to bring about his revenge on Gin and Vodka. And if that included using an innocent child, well then, so be it.

* * *

Gin was just leaving the park when his cell phone rang. Frowning in confusion and slight annoyance, he got it out of his pocket and opened it. "Hello?" he said into it, making certain to keep his eyes on the road.

He nearly steered off the road when he heard Vodka's voice. "Bro?"

Gin's eyes widened, then narrowed furiously. "Where have you been?" he snapped. "I tried to contact you several times, and your phone wasn't on." He did not look at Ayumi, but if he had, he would have seen her cringe in fear as she realized who Gin was speaking to.

There was a hesitation. "I'm sorry, bro . . . I was talking to someone and he didn't want us to be interrupted." Another pause. "Look, I have something I need to talk over with you. Can you come get me?"

Gin grunted. "Maybe," he answered in a dark tone, and Vodka suddenly felt ten times more nervous than he had a moment earlier. "Where are you?" Vodka told him, and Gin then hung up to turn the car in that direction.

Ayumi watched him, biting her lip. She was not certain that she liked this development at all. "Gin-sama," she said softly, "what are you going to do when we get there?" She shifted anxiously. "What if . . . what if Vodka-san tries to hurt me again?" She did not think she could bear that. It had been hard enough to have it happen once. She did not want to see Vodka again at all if that was the way he was going to treat her. It made her heart hurt too much. She was closer to Gin than she was to Vodka, but she still had been fond of Vodka as well.

"He won't," Gin assured her now. "I'll make sure of that."

* * *

Vodka's location was towards the bad part of town. When Gin found him, he was standing in front of the telephone booth he had used, and he had his gun out, most likely in case he met any characters who wanted to give him trouble. But Gin was not about to take any chances. He took out his own gun once he had parked, and Ayumi stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Gin-sama!" she gasped, and suddenly she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

"Just stay here," he growled before she could say anything more. "This is a bad neighborhood." And with that he exited the car, shutting the door quietly. Vodka had not seen the car approach, as Gin had parked up the street, and now the blonde stealthily walked over, abruptly pointing the gun at Vodka's head as he had done once before. And as before, Vodka froze in shock and alarm.

"That girl we rescued in the past is saying you abducted her," Gin growled in a low tone, watching his partner tense.

"That's . . . that's ridiculous!" Vodka cried, struggling to find his voice. It was shocking enough to be greeted by Gin in this way, but to be given this news was outrageous. Suddenly he wondered what he was going to do. It almost looked as if the brunette had been right---Gin would kill him.

"Oh?" Gin retorted. "Then maybe you'd like to tell me where you were and what is it you wanted to talk about." His eyes narrowed, and Vodka heard the gun click.

"Bro . . . just let me explain," Vodka pleaded, his heart racing. And so, swiftly he began to tell about the man he had gone to see and what he had learned. Gin listened, letting Vodka turn around to face him, but then holding the gun to his throat. He did not give any indication whether he believed Vodka's story or not, and he could see that the other man was growing increasingly nervous.

"Where are these things you supposedly took?" he asked when Vodka had finished his narrative. For his part, he was strongly considering that Vodka was telling the truth. It made sense, a lot more sense than the idea that Vodka had taken Ayumi. And yet, if Vodka's story was truthful, then that meant that someone had tried to make Ayumi think that Vodka was taking her. Gin did not like that idea, either. It would mean that they were all pawns in someone's game. Still, that was preferable over his comrade turning traitor. He did not want to deal with that.

"I have them here, bro," Vodka replied, holding up a briefcase with a shaking hand. He could not see beyond the mask that Gin had put up, and he knew that was intentional, but that did not make him feel any better about it. He did not like feeling as though Gin would shoot him any minute. He had felt the same way when this scenario had played out in the mailroom, but if anything, Gin seemed more furious now than he had then.

"I want to listen to the tape and look at that email," Gin said in a low tone. "I didn't send an email like the one you're describing." He still had not removed the gun from Vodka's throat, and suddenly he and Vodka both started when Ayumi's frantic voice rang out as the child ran over to them.

"Gin-sama! Please don't hurt Vodka-san!" she wailed as she approached, tears in her eyes again. "It was so scary when he took me, and treated me awful, but . . . I don't want you to hurt him!" She clutched at Gin's right hand while he and Vodka both stared at her in disbelief. "Oh please don't. . . . He's your friend!"

Vodka was the first to find his voice. "But . . . I didn't hurt you!" he cried. "I've never even seen you since that night when we were at Ushio's house!" He looked back to Gin, his heart pounding, pleading to be believed. At this point he was much too upset over this case of mistaken identity to stop to think about the fact that Ayumi seemed to believe that he and Gin were friends.

Gin grunted. "I wasn't going to hurt him . . . yet," he retorted, and looked back to Vodka. "I'll be the judge of whether you're telling the truth or not. Let's set up the tape player and listen to the message." His eyes narrowed. "From what you told me, it almost sounds like they took pieces of a conversation I did have and rearranged it to mean something entirely different." Slowly he lowered the gun, and Vodka relaxed immensely.

Now Gin looked down to Ayumi again. "You were supposed to wait in the car," he scolded.

She bit her lip. "I know, but I saw you holding the gun on him, Gin-sama, and I got really scared that you'd shoot him. . . ." Then she looked up at Vodka in awe, remembering what he had said. She was feeling extremely confused, and did not know what to believe. She knew what she had seen earlier, but she could see that now Vodka seemed more like the man she remembered. Was there a chance, she wondered, that it was not Vodka who had taken her? Oh, she hoped so! She had seen some very good actors when she had solved mysteries with Conan, and maybe the person who had taken her had been another one. But then she shuddered, wondering why anyone would want to play such a mean trick.

Gin growled. "Next time you'd better do what I say," he said as they walked back to the car. "I don't tell you to do things for no reason."

"I know," Ayumi replied softly. As she walked with them, her vision suddenly swam and she stumbled, nearly crashing to the sidewalk before Vodka reached and caught her.

"Are you okay?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Yeah," she said quietly, and pulled away from Vodka. Right now she still felt uneasy around him, even though she badly wanted to believe that he had not been the one who had taken her. But since she could not know for certain yet, she would prefer to stay away from him as much as possible.

She rubbed at her head, trying to blink away the spots of dizziness she was seeing. She was confused over why this was happening. She was actually starting to feel sick, and she gripped at Gin's hand as she moved over closer to him again. She felt safe with Gin. He would make her feel better.

Gin watched her with narrowed eyes. Somehow he did not believe at all that she was alright. She looked disoriented as she grabbed his hand, and he could see her blinking repeatedly, as if to try to clear her vision. He decided he would have to keep a close watch on her. And for the moment, and for different reasons, he would have to keep watch on Vodka as well.


	4. A Life in the Balance

**Chapter Four**

When Ayumi did not return in time for dinner, her mother began calling all of her friends to see if the child was with any of them and had simply lost track of time. But of course, it was discovered that Ayumi was not with any of them, and so everyone began to worry. Mrs. Yoshida called the police and a search throughout the city was organized, just as it had been when she had vanished in the past.

Ai and Conan, who had come to the Yoshidas' house, watched as officers milled around and then went their separate ways to look for the missing girl. Then, narrowing her eyes, Ai turned to look at the other. "Kudo, do you think this has anything to do with the telephone calls?" she asked grimly.

Conan looked back, equally as serious. "It's very possible," he acknowledged, "but it's strange that they received two calls on one evening, and then there weren't any for these past two weeks." Still, he knew that criminal minds were often very bewildering and that it was often difficult to figure out what they were thinking. But of course, he always enjoyed sorting it out and getting the pieces to make sense. Right now, he knew that it was critical for him to do so. Ayumi's safety could very well depend on it.

"Maybe they wanted to make sure they had the right house?" Ai suggested now.

Conan nodded slowly. "I've thought of that," he admitted. "It could be the truth." His eyes narrowed. "If we could only figure out who would want to take her!" He looked to Ai searchingly. "Are you sure that it would not be the Black Organization?" he demanded. He knew that she did not believe it was, but he still could not help feeling certain that they were involved somehow.

She shook her head. "As long as they're not aware that Ayumi is connected with me, I don't see what they would be able to gain from it," she answered. Then another idea occurred to her. "Kudo, did they ever find the body of the man who tried to take her before?" she asked seriously.

"Yeah," Conan confirmed, "badly burned and dead from a gunshot wound to the head, just as Ayumi said."

"Then it couldn't have been him," Ai frowned. She mulled it over in her mind before looking to Conan again. "Maybe someone working with him is involved somehow," she suggested, "someone who remembers Ayumi from before."

"But why would they take her?" Conan sighed. This was a baffling case. He knew that he had to solve it immediately, and yet it did not seem as though he had much time in which to do so. Ayumi was most likely in serious danger at this very moment.

Then his eyes narrowed as he thought of something else. "What if she just wandered off by herself again?" he mused. "The last time, she said she was looking for Gin, and that's when she climbed in his car to get away from Ushio." He sighed again. "Maybe she's looking for him again, for some reason."

"Maybe," Ai agreed, "but whatever the reason, I'm sure we can both agree that she's in trouble." Conan nodded emphatically, and the two of them hurried off to find Dr. Agasa and join in the search.

Abruptly Conan stopped, blinking in surprise. When Ai turned to look at him questioningly, she found him adjusting his glasses. "I'm getting a signal from the badge!" he exclaimed. "It's a weak one, and it wasn't coming through before." He looked back at Ai, hope in his eyes. "It's somewhere close by. Let's find where!" With that he took off again and veered to the left. After a brief moment of surprise, Ai followed, wondering why a signal was suddenly coming through now when it was not a few minutes earlier.

* * *

Gin narrowed his emerald eyes darkly, listening as Vodka played the telephone conversation from earlier. He recognized most of what was said. It was as he had started to suspect---someone had recorded the original call and then had edited it to make it sound as though Gin was speaking derogatorily of Vodka and that the caller was doing the opposite, which was the reverse of how it had actually been. Other phrases were ones that he did not remember from the call, and he decided that the editor must have taken certain words and strung them together to say what they wanted. The question was, who had done it, and why?

Absently he held Ayumi on his lap as this was going on. While they had been setting up the tape player in the backseat of the Porsche, she had finally admitted to not feeling well and then had climbed onto Gin's lap. For some reason, he had not routed her away. Now she was clinging to his arm and laying her head against it. If he had looked at her, he would have seen how pale she had become. He laid a hand on the top of her head, also an unconscious action.

Vodka looked at him nervously as the tape ended. "What do you think, bro?" he asked. He was surprised by how gentle Gin was being towards the girl, but he knew better than to say anything. And anyway, he was much more concerned over what Gin's reaction to the tape would be. If Gin had not had anything to do with this, and he believed that Vodka himself had put it together, then Vodka was certain it was all over for him.

Gin growled. "Whoever edited that conversation twisted it all around," he answered flatly. "In reality, it was the caller who was speaking poorly about you. It wasn't me." He reached over, grabbing up the paper with the email on it. "And I didn't send this," he said firmly.

Vodka swallowed hard. "I don't have any proof of that," he pointed out cautiously.

"And I don't have proof that you didn't make all of this up yourself," Gin retorted.

They stared each other down for a long moment, neither especially anxious to back down, in case the other truly was an enemy. They might have remained that way for quite some time, if Ayumi had not suddenly broken the mood.

She moaned, burrowing against Gin's coat, and opened her eyes slightly."Gin-sama," she said in a pained, weakened voice, and shuddered. She did not understand why she was feeling so ill. It had started shortly after she had ran over to Gin and Vodka on the sidewalk, she remembered, and it had only gotten worse after that. Now the dizziness was coming over her again. Her eyes fell shut again, against her will, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Gin started at her voice, as if emerging from a dreamlike state, and looked down at her as she sagged lifelessly against him. Noticing how pale her skin was against her dark hair and his own coat, he reached down and placed a hand over her forehead in concern. "She's got a fever," he muttered, and wondered what to do now. It seemed strange to him that she would become sick so suddenly, but he supposed the stress of the day's events could have caused it. Then again, on the other hand. . . .

His eyes narrowed and he began to search over her body for something that he was hoping to not find. Vodka gawked, watching as Gin pried the child's hands away from his arm and then raised them to the glow of the overhead light, searching over them and her small arms for a moment before letting them limply drop. Then he examined her neck, and here his expression darkened even more.

Vodka blinked at him in confusion. "What is it, bro?" he asked.

"She was stuck with a needle," Gin answered, and indicated the pinprick in her ghostly flesh. Vodka stared in alarm. "Probably by whoever took her. And the needle probably contained poison." His green eyes flickered with apparent outrage over this, and he cradled the child in his arms as he tried to think of what to do now. They could take her back to the base and have some of the doctors try to determine what had been used, but there was the chance that it was something used by a rival syndicate that they did not have knowledge about yet. Still, they might have to take the chance---unless they could find the person who had done this to her.

Gin realized now that he was thinking of Ayumi's abductor as if it was not Vodka. And that did not surprise him. He truly was certain that Vodka had not been responsible. His shock when first Gin and then Ayumi had accused him of the kidnapping had been genuine. He had not known anything about it until then.

Vodka stared at him, again obviously stunned by this news. "Poison?" he repeated in horror.

Gin nodded and opened the door, getting out while still holding Ayumi with one arm. He eased himself into the driver's seat and then looked to Vodka, who was still sitting in the back and watching as though he wasn't sure what to think. "Well, come on!" the blonde barked.

Startled out of his trance, Vodka set the tape player aside and got into the passenger side. "What are we going to do, bro?" It dawned on him now that Gin had not accused him of being the one to give Ayumi the poison, and he wondered if he did not have to worry about that happening. He hoped that was so.

In response Gin lifted the small body and laid her on Vodka's lap. "Take care of her," he grunted. "We have to get her someplace where they can find out what's wrong." Without waiting for Vodka to answer, Gin revved the engine and drove away.

Vodka was at a loss for words. He looked down at Ayumi's weakened form, seeing how pale and sick she was, and slowly put his arms around her to hold her close. He knew that if she awoke she would be terrified and would probably try to get away from him. But he also realized, to his relief, that Gin never would have entrusted her with him if he believed that Vodka had harmed her in the first place. Gin did not need to say it aloud; it was obvious from this action. He still trusted Vodka.

Suddenly Gin's cell phone rang. In irritation he pulled it out and unfolded it while still holding onto the steering wheel. "Hello?" he snarled into the phone. Every call today had been yet another piece in this frustrating mystery, and he was not looking forward to finding out what it would bring them next.

"Do you have the girl?" an unfamiliar voice demanded.

Gin's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Who is this?" he returned, driving around a corner.

"You don't need to know that," was the exasperating response, "except that I work for your partner, or should I say, ex-partner, since I'm sure you're revolted with him by now. I'm disgusted with him too, which is why I'm calling to talk to you." There was static on the other end of the line, and Gin could faintly hear some background noises but at the moment he was not sure what they were. Nor did he care right now.

"Get to the point," Gin growled.

"Well, the point is that the girl probably isn't feeling very well right now, is she? You're a smart person. I'm sure you're aware of that." A pause. "What you may not know is that she won't last very long---most likely not more than an hour. She needs a certain antidote, one that your partner knows about."

Gin glanced at Vodka, then back ahead at the road. "I don't believe it," he said coldly. "You've been leading us along all this time, trying to turn us against each other."

"Check Vodka's pockets," was the answer. "He still has the needle he used to poison the poor child. You don't have to believe me. Find the proof."

Gin debated this for a moment before pulling over to the side of the road. For the person to be so confident, he must know that Gin would find exactly what was claimed to be there. And that made Gin all the more suspicious of the caller and not of Vodka. "Show me the contents of your pockets," the blonde ordered his ally.

Stunned, and having a sinking feeling, Vodka set Ayumi back on his lap and began searching through his coat pockets. A pack of cigarettes, the lighter, a yo-yo . . . nothing unusual. But he blinked, finding something he did not recognize. Slowly he pulled it out, and then stared at it in alarm. He was holding an empty hypodermic needle. Shakily he held it up, turning it over in his hand, and looked to Gin, not able to speak.

Gin glowered at it. He had known that they would find it, after the caller's confidence. "Now what do you want?" he snapped into the phone. "We found it."

"Well, ask him about it," the voice said frankly.

"It won't do any good," Gin retorted. "He doesn't know how it got there."

Vodka stared at Gin, amazed. He had been sure that the green-eyed man was going to feel hostile toward him because of the discovery. But instead Gin apparently still felt that Vodka was not guilty in the matter. Slowly he relaxed, though he then had to wonder how on earth the needle had gotten in his pocket. Who would have slipped it there? The boy who had played him the tape? He might have had an opportunity, when Vodka was occupied with listening to the conversation.

The person on Gin's phone made a sound of disbelief. "You surely can't believe him," he objected. "He's the one who poisoned the girl!"

"Maybe," Gin replied, annoyed, "but I highly doubt it. Do you think I'll believe you over him, especially when he came to me with this tape that someone re-edited of a conversation I had?" _And especially when I've known him for years,_ he added to himself. _I know when we're being played for fools._

"He did that himself," the caller replied, "and then made up the story about someone else doing it."

Vodka listened intently to the voice. He had been thinking that it sounded familiar to him, and now he placed it. "That's the person who called me!" he exclaimed indignantly. "He was trying to make me think that you were trying to kill me!"

Ayumi stirred and moaned softly on his lap, but did not wake up. Instead she snuggled closer, grabbing a handful of his shirt. Vodka set the needle aside on the dashboard and looked down at her. She was such an innocent child, and she had gotten mixed up with so much that she should not have had to. He sighed and leaned back, idly wondering what would have happened to himself and to Gin if they had not been brought up as part of the Black Organization.

Gin looked at his partner with great interest at this statement. "Oh?" he said thoughtfully, bringing Vodka back to the present.

"That's not true!" the caller said adamantly, having overheard. "He's the one who contacted me about that! He said you were trying to kill him and he wanted to get you first, and that he was going to first get revenge on you by hurting the girl!"

"Now you're just spewing idiocy," Gin retorted. "We're wasting time. I'm sure you know what I do to people who give me a hard time. I want you to tell me exactly what was done to this girl, and how to stop it!" He gripped the steering wheel tightly with his free hand, fire flashing in his emerald eyes.

"It's your partner who knows what to do," the person continued to insist, and Gin's expression turned to complete disgust.

Vodka was feeling the same way. "Bro, let me talk to that guy," he said now. He was fed up with this game that they were trapped within, and he wanted to tell the caller exactly what he thought of these unfair actions.

In annoyance Gin shoved the phone at him. "Try to get him to tell about the antidote," he ordered. "I have a feeling that the one thing he isn't lying about is the fact that we only have an hour to save her life." He was furious about the whole situation. They were being used as pawns, the same as Ushio had done to them. And he would not take that lightly. If Ayumi died because of this sick game, he would . . . well, he did not know what he would do. But the one responsible would regret it.

He growled silently to himself. Was he allowing himself to grow attached to that girl? Of course not. That was ridiculous. He did not form attachments to anyone. He had been trained to not do so. But he still was angered over how Ayumi was being used, apparently in an attempt to turn Gin and Vodka against each other. It was clear now to Gin that they were dealing with such a plan. And unless they could figure out who was behind it, and why, Ayumi would probably die. He could hear from Vodka's side of the conversation that it was not going anywhere.

He wondered if someone who knew Ushio could be responsible. His eyes narrowed, recalling Ling Hi Sou's Ouroboros ring, and the strange comments he had made concerning Ushio when Gin and Vodka had gone to his apartment.

_"It's a tragedy . . . what happened to Ushio," Ling remarked then. "He served as a loyal informant for your organization for years, and then, suddenly he was killed."_

_"He got too full of himself to be of much use," Gin grunted. "When you forget your position, that's when you've set up your own downfall."_

_"Yes," Ling mused then. "That's very true, Agent Gin. Very true indeed."_

Gin also remembered the intense hatred he had felt from Ling. He had believed that it was directed at him, and possibly at Vodka as well. And it was Ling who had called him about finding Ayumi. Was that merely a coincidence? Or was that something he should pay more attention to?

Suddenly Gin's eyes widened and he looked around for a piece of paper, finally grabbing the infamous email printout. Turning it over, he began writing something several different ways. Then his eyes narrowed. Of course. Why had he not seen it before? Now things were starting to make more sense.

Vodka glared at the phone as the mysterious caller hung up on him. He had not learned anything of value. Now he was being told that Gin must have planted the needle on him and that Gin had been the one who had actually harmed the girl. The person seemed to have only in mind the goal of tormenting them both by telling them each something different, until they were driven mad. And they did not have any time to spare, with Ayumi's life at stake. Vodka did not want to see her die from this poison.

He looked over at Gin, seeing him quickly scribbling something down on a sheet of paper. He blinked in confusion. "Bro?"

Gin looked up, setting the paper aside as he started the engine. "We're going to the Hiragi Apartments," he said darkly.

Vodka stared at him. "Why?" he gasped, holding onto Ayumi as they sped around a corner. Of all things he had expected Gin to tell him, that was not one of them. The Hiragi Apartments was the last location to which he thought they would be going right now.

"Because," Gin answered angrily, "Ling Hi Sou is involved in this."

Vodka glanced down at the paper Gin had been writing on. And then he understood.

* * *

While this was taking place, Conan and Ai were arriving at the location from which Ayumi's badge was sending out its signal. It was a pink house with a hedge and many flowers in the front. It looked like a house that Ayumi would greatly enjoy, and as the two supposed children went up to it, they found to their astonishment that the front door had been left wide open. Then, narrowing his eyes, Conan ran up the porch steps and into the front parlor.

He stopped short as he surveyed the area. Everything seemed to be in perfect order, at least on first glance. But something was definitely wrong. Quickly he ran down the fancy hall and to the back door. It was shut, but on the floor was a calico cat---and it was happily playing with what Conan recognized as Ayumi's badge.

_The door must have not been shut tight and the cat pushed it open!_ he decided as he bent down to pick up the tracking device. The feline meowed in protest, but Conan ignored it, turning the badge over for any possible clues. Ayumi would not have just been careless and dropped it here. And it looked banged up, as if someone had perhaps stepped on it. That was probably why it had not given a signal before. Then, when the cat had come to play with it, that action had managed to jar it back into some semblance of working order.

Now Ai came over to him. "There's tire tracks out back," she reported grimly, and then noticed the badge. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. "Ayumi was here," she uttered quietly. And it looked as though she definitely had been taken by someone. What puzzled Ai was why Ayumi would have been inside a home that looked as though it would be vacant for several days. How would she even get inside? Had the person who had taken her already been there, and had lured her there somehow?

Conan nodded grimly. "It doesn't look like there's anything to see in here," he remarked. "Let's go look at the tire tracks."

* * *

Ling's suite at the Hiragi Apartments seemed empty when Gin and Vodka arrived. Gin knocked several times without getting a response, much to his vexation. Vodka, who was still holding Ayumi's limp body, looked at him with concern. "Now what?" he asked. He shifted the little girl's weight, and she weakly opened her eyes, blinking up at him.

"Vodka-san," she said softly, and gave him a small, pain-filled smile. In her current state, she did not clearly remember the events from earlier. She only knew that she felt safe right now, and she snuggled closer.

Vodka swallowed, again feeling uncomfortable. He had rarely, if ever, had someone look up to him the way Ayumi seemed to do. He did not know how to handle it. In another way, he felt honored that Ayumi saw something more in him and in Gin than just that they were assassins. He looked over at Gin and saw the blonde giving them both a glance before turning his attention back to the door. Then Vodka realized that Gin was going to kick it in.

The blonde did exactly this, not caring if any of the other tenants heard. It took three tries before the wood finally gave up and flew open, hanging off its hinges, and when it did, Gin pulled out his gun and stormed inside. He narrowed his eyes when he saw that the living room light was on and that furniture was strewn about. Several chairs were on their sides, the couch was upsidedown, and two vases were in pieces. Something had happened in here, and he doubted that he would like it any more than anything else that had taken place tonight.

Motioning to Vodka to follow him, Gin started to weave his way around the furniture. When he came to the small hallway outside of the living room, he thought he could hear a weak moan. Growling to himself, he pushed open the bedroom door and looked inside, then stopped in shock.

There was more topsy-turvey furniture in that room, including the nightstand, a dresser, and the bed itself. Laying on the floor in the middle of the catastrophe was a woman, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and clutching at her profusely bleeding stomach. Her long blonde hair, highlighted with pink, fell around her shoulders. When the door opened, she looked up in fright. Gin recognized her as Ling's companion from earlier.


	5. Riddles

**Chapter Five**

Gin and the woman exchanged a look for a long moment, their eyes boring into each other's. Each seemed equally defiant, but at last Gin broke the silence. "What happened to you?" he demanded coldly. He could not tell whether she had been shot or stabbed, as long as her hand was over the wound, but he had the feeling that he knew who was responsible.

She glared at him, not wanting to answer. "Why are you here?" she retorted, and then noticed the child in Vodka's arms. Her eyes widened and she let out a soft exclamation of shock and alarm. "Oh no," she whispered. "He really did it, didn't he. . . ."

Gin moved forward, holding his gun at her throat. "Who's 'he'?" he growled in a dangerous voice. "Ling Hi Sou . . . or should I say . . . Ling Ushio?" His emerald eyes flashed furiously, taking in her second expression of consternation. He knew he was on the right track. Ling was somehow related to Yusuke, though Gin was not certain of the exact relationship.

She frowned. "I don't have to tell you anything," she hissed. "I'm going to die now anyway." She indicated the blood pooling around her on the floor. She had lost too much of the life substance to stay among the living.

Gin made a sound of disgust. "So you're going to die pointlessly, making a waste of whatever life you've had. I couldn't care less. But before you depart, I want to know what Ling did to that girl, and how to stop it from killing her!" He pointed at Ayumi's semi-conscious form. "Do you want her to die, too? Do you?" As he spoke, he never raised his voice, instead speaking in a dark, frosty, and deadly tone that had often struck fear into the hearts of those who came into contact with him.

"Do _you?_" the woman retorted sharply. "What is she to you? I know Ling thinks she means something to you, but I can't believe that. You're nothing but an assassin. You're trained to be heartless, and you succeed every day. What does one little girl's life mean to someone like you?" Her eyes flashed again, with something akin to hatred, but it was not directed at Gin.

The blonde continued to hold the gun on her throat, not caring who her feelings of loathing were for. "It's none of your business," he said now. "Just tell me where the antidote is! She's going to die unless it's given to her in less than an hour!" He had the feeling that this woman did not want Ayumi to die, judging from her reaction when she had seen Vodka holding the little girl. But he also did not know if she would overcome her stubbornness long enough to tell him anything useful. It seemed that she did not want to betray Ling.

She looked at him sullenly. "Ling has it," she said at last, and looked away.

"And where is he?" Gin demanded.

While Gin was trying to interrogate the obstinate female, Vodka had wandered off into another part of the apartment. Finding the bathroom, he balanced Ayumi with one arm while opening the medicine cabinet. He did not actually think it was possible, but he had decided that he should check to see if the antidote could be somewhere in the apartment. Pushing aside various bottles of pills, he searched through all the contents until he had determined that neither the poison or the antidote was there. He recognized all the labels, and when he shook the containers, he was certain that they each held exactly what they claimed to. Frustrated, he investigated the other cupboards and cabinets as well, but did not come up with anything.

"What's Gin-sama doing?" Ayumi asked softly. She was watching Vodka through bleary eyes, and she was not certain what he was doing either, but she hoped that he was looking for something that would help her feel better. She did not know how much longer she could stand the immense feeling of sickness that was wafting over her. She just wanted it all to be over.

Vodka glanced at her. "He's trying to get that woman to tell him how to help you," he answered finally as he closed the last cupboard door and walked out of the bathroom.

"Oh. . . ." Ayumi's eyes drooped further shut as she listened to the gentle beating of Vodka's heart. The rhythmic tones would be enough to put her to sleep, especially when she was already halfway there, but she wanted to stay awake. "Vodka-san," she said after a brief moment, "you didn't hurt me, did you?" Memories were swirling through her mind now, and vaguely she recalled that someone had been cruel to her earlier that day, but she did not see how it could have been Vodka. He was being kind to her. He always had been, even though he did not often know how to talk to her.

He blinked in surprise. "No," he admitted firmly, stepping over the fallen furniture to reach the kitchen.

She smiled weakly. "I knew you wouldn't have," she said then.

He opened his mouth to reply to this, but then could not think of anything to say. Before he could come up with something, he ran into Gin as the blonde was coming out of the bedroom. Gin grunted in annoyance, and Vodka flushed in embarrassment that he had not been watching where he was going.

"Sorry, bro," he apologized sheepishly. "Did that woman tell you anything?"

Gin narrowed his eyes. "She just repeated what she'd said about Ling having the antidote. But then she said something strange." He replaced his gun in its holster as he walked past Vodka into the living room. "She said that even if we found the image of Ling, it wouldn't do any good unless we found the real one too. Then she keeled over and died." Irritated, he stepped over the couch and shoved a chair out of his way.

Vodka gawked at him. "But . . . that doesn't even make sense!" he protested.

"It's obviously a riddle," Gin answered darkly, and started to kick several pictures frames out of his way. As he looked down at them, his eyes widened. _Image of Ling. . . ._ Quickly he knelt down and began picking up the pictures. One of the girl, one of her and Ling together, one of some other people. . . . He growled in annoyance. Surely there was a photograph there of Ling by himself!

Vodka was still staring, not knowing what to make of this at all. "Bro . . . what are you doing!" he gasped.

"Don't ask questions!" Gin snapped. "Just look for a picture of that traitor!" He began moving the furniture aside, looking underneath it and behind it. After another moment of confusion, Vodka gently laid Ayumi down on a loveseat that was right-side up and began to help the other.

They turned the living room into even more of a war zone than it had been originally, as they did not bother to fix whatever they shoved out of their way in their search. At last Vodka found a framed picture of Ling that had gotten wedged between a fallen drape and the second couch. He held it out and Gin snatched it, then began to dismantle it. He slid the backing out of the frame, followed by a piece of cardboard, and ended up with a crinkled piece of paper. Frowning, he turned it over and began to read. Vodka stood to the side to read it as well.

_**If you're reading this, you figured out the first part of the riddle, not to mention**_

_**Ling's involvement in what's happened. He isn't ashamed to admit it. Now I'll tell you**_

_**what you need to know. The girl will need two injections of the antidote in order**_

_**to completely recover. The first must be administered within eight hours time from**_

_**the original poisoning. It's in the kitchen, in the cookie jar. Then you'll have to find**_

_**the real Ling to get the second vial. I don't even know where he is right now, but he**_

_**told me to give you this riddle: "You already know where I am. I just hope the war doesn't**_

_**start without you. I'd hate to meet my Waterloo without getting to see you again first!**_

_**Bon voyage!" And may I add, good luck.**_

Gin glowered at the note, which was apparently from the woman. Then he stuffed it into his pocket, knowing that he would have to refer to it again to decipher the riddle. Muttering to himself, he went into the kitchen and quickly found the cookie jar on the table. Lifting the lid, he reached in and pulled out a small bottle and a fresh hypodermic needle. It was just as the instructions had described. He could only hope that this truly was part of the antidote and not a further scheme to torment the poor child.

Vodka watched as Gin came back in and sat down on the loveseat. After filling the needle with the substance from the container, Gin carefully raised Ayumi's arm and stuck the needle into it, trying to be as gentle as he could. She jerked, whimpering in pain, and Gin grunted in reply. He set the items aside on a table, then reached out and lifted her mostly limp body closer to him. She snuggled close, relaxing, and Gin looked down at her expressionlessly.

Slowly Vodka came and sat on the loveseat next to his comrade. "What do we do now, bro?" he asked. "I know we need to figure out that other riddle. . . ."

"That's our main priority now," Gin answered, "for more reasons than one." Not only did he want to save Ayumi's life, but he wanted to make sure that Ling paid for what he had done. He did not take kindly to being played for a fool, nor for someone to try to get him at odds with his partner. He wondered if Ling had actually thought that it would work and that they would end up killing each other. If Ling had believed that, then he had very little faith in their intelligence. Unless he had been planning, or was still planning, to do more with that angle. Gin would not be surprised at all about that.

Vodka swallowed, trying to remember the exact phrasing of the note. "Well . . . it said something about a war," he remembered. "He made it sound like there's other people he's been fighting against, or something, and that they're all going to gang up on him and his friends."

Gin took the crumpled paper out of his pocket and smoothed it in his hands. "And he doesn't want to 'meet his Waterloo' before we have a confrontation," he mused. "He doesn't want to be defeated by someone else? That phrase usually refers to a painful defeat." He frowned. "And then it ends by saying 'Bon voyage', a term used as a farewell when someone is taking a trip on a ship."

"He's probably taunting us," Vodka said in annoyance. "He's probably saying that we're gonna go on a voyage, to the afterlife!" He clenched a fist angrily.

"Maybe," Gin mused, "but it's supposed to be a riddle. It could have the surface meaning as well as something else." He leaned back against the loveseat, studying the ceiling as he tried to fit the pieces together.

Suddenly he felt the gentle movement of the child in his arms, and when he glanced down, she had a handful of his blonde hair and was stroking it. Giggling, she looked up at him and grinned. "Your hair is so pretty, Gin-sama! I've never met anyone else who wears their hair this long, not even ladies!"

Gin grunted. Well, she seemed to be feeling a lot better for the moment. It was an irritation for her to be toying with his hair, but he found himself feeling a certain amount of relief that she was not just laying limply on his lap any longer. He did not like to see her like that, so weakened and helpless, and dependent on him and Vodka to take care of her. Then he narrowed his eyes. Why should it matter to him one way or another? And yet he could not deny that it did.

Ayumi bit her lip now, her expression changing to one of confusion. "Gin-sama, why did Hi Sou-san hurt me?" she asked softly. "I . . . I thought he wanted to help me. He found me in that crate. . . ." She continued to absently run her hand over Gin's hair as she spoke. She was still quite weakened and not up to par, but after the first dose of the antidote she was certainly feeling better than she had been earlier.

"He probably put you there in the first place," Gin retorted. "And he was using you because he wanted to make trouble for me and Vodka. He wanted to make us hate each other, maybe even to kill each other." It was either Ling or one of his conspirators who had pretended to be Vodka, and Gin was starting to think that it was probably Ling himself. That would make sense. Then he could pretend to be some sort of hero by "finding" her while having a meeting with one of his weapons contacts, and telling Gin about it.

She looked from him to Vodka worriedly. "He didn't do that, though, did he, Gin-sama, Vodka-san?" she exclaimed. "He didn't make you hate each other?"

Gin and Vodka exchanged a look, as if to determine the answer themselves before saying anything. Then Gin looked back at Ayumi. "No," he answered. "We don't hate each other." Vodka nodded in agreement.

Ayumi relaxed, smiling in relief. "I'm so glad," she declared.

Gin did not reply. He was thinking again about what Ling had told him when he had called. He had been down at the docks, and Ayumi had been found in a warehouse where weapons were stored. . . . Of course! Weapons were used to fight in wars. The mention of "war" in the note must be a hint that Ling was back where he had stashed Ayumi. "Bon voyage" probably reinforced that. He still was not sure what "Waterloo" was supposed to mean, if anything, but he felt certain that he knew where Ling was waiting. He rose, still holding Ayumi---as he recognized that she was still not well enough to get down and walk by herself.

Vodka watched him, obviously bewildered. "Bro . . . what are you going to do?" he asked.

"We're going to get out of here and find Hi Sou," Gin replied darkly, and then froze when he heard people coming up the stairs out in the hallway. Cursing, he inconspicuously peered out the window and saw several patrol cars below. Either someone had been tracking them, or else one of the other tenants had heard them in the apartment and had called the police because of the disturbance.

Vodka tensed. "How are we going to get out of here?" he gasped. If the police found them, it would be all over. They would not let Ayumi stay with them long enough to get the second part of the antidote. They would probably believe that Gin and Vodka had kidnapped her, in addition to all the other crimes that they were wanted for.

Recalling that there was a balcony off the bedroom, Gin turned and headed back in that direction. Ayumi gasped upon seeing the woman's body on the floor, and she quickly buried her face in the folds of Gin's coat. She did not like the fact that they had to get away from the police, who had been her friends many a time, but she understood some of how it would be for Gin and Vodka if they were caught. And she did not want that, either.

Finding that the sliding glass doors were locked, Gin set Ayumi down and grabbed a nearby chair, throwing it harshly against the glass and causing it to shatter. He shielded the child as sharp material went flying in all directions, and then lifted her up again as he went out to survey the possibility of getting down that way. Vodka followed hesitantly. They were five stories up. How would they ever get down, especially when they had the girl to protect? They often had to pull dangerous stunts, but when Ayumi was with them they could not risk her life any more than it already had been.

Gin leaned over the edge, calculating the distance down to the balcony directly below them. And he got an idea. "I'm going to climb down there," he decided. The lights were not on in that apartment. They might be able to sneak back in through that way and go down in the elevator to the ground floor. But then he growled. There was always the chance that officers had been stationed all along the way to intercept anyone unfamiliar. They could not afford to take the chance. In the long run, it would be safer for them to try a stunt such as this to get down.

Vodka gawked at him. "You're going to climb down there, with the girl?" he cried in astonishment.

Ayumi peered over the edge and swallowed hard, hugging Gin around the neck. She did not like the idea at all. "You might fall," she objected.

"I won't," Gin said flatly. While Ayumi was still holding onto him, he took the cloth belt from his coat and used it to tie the child in place. Then, while Vodka watching in disbelief, the blonde took hold of the railing and climbed over the edge, lowering himself down as far as he could before jumping onto the next balcony. He had decided that they would have to do this all the way down. It was much too risky to enter the building again.

"Are we done yet?" Ayumi asked softly, still not looking up.

"No," Gin told her, watching as Vodka shakily jumped down next to him.

And so they went down the rest of the levels the same way, trying to be as cautious and quiet as they could. When they reached the bottom, Gin noticed that there was a guard in the parking lot. Muttering to himself, he sneaked up behind the person and struck him over the head with his gun, knocking him unconscious. Then he and Vodka hurried to where the Porsche was parked, partially concealed by a van on one side and a bush on the other. Hastily he untied Ayumi before diving into the driver's seat and handing her back to Vodka.

She looked up now, her blue eyes sparkling. "That was actually kinda fun!" she declared, as Gin threw the car into reverse. "Maybe we could do it again sometime!"

Gin grunted, quickly pulling out of the parking lot. "There's no way in Heaven, Earth, or Hell," he muttered.

* * *

The tire tracks that Ai had found did not go on for very long before they disappeared on the asphalt road. Conan studied what there was, memorizing the pattern so that he would hopefully know if he saw it again. It was a unique design, and Conan felt sure that he would be able to take notice of it if he saw it again. Still, he was frustrated and wished that there would be some other clues. Surely someone had seen _something_ suspicious!

Ai, who had been talking to one of the neighbors, now came over to him. "The woman next door says that the owners of this house are away for the week," she reported. "And she remembers seeing a white Porsche here earlier, but she didn't see any people." Her eyes narrowed at the mention of the car. A Porsche, no matter the color, would forever make her think of Gin. He had always enjoyed classic cars such as that. His mentor had usually had several different kinds on hand, but Gin's preference had been Porsches. After the elderly man had died, under circumstances which Gin had found suspicious, Gin had inherited the car collection.

Conan looked up with a start. "A Porsche?" he repeated in alarm. Apparently that make of car had the same effect on him as it did on Ai.

Ai nodded. "But it was white, so it couldn't have been Gin's," she said. "He wouldn't repaint his car. He likes it black."

Conan frowned. "Still, it seems like too much of a coincidence," he retorted. "We know Ayumi was here, and we know she's had contact with the Black Organization. Now, we find out that there was a Porsche here. Maybe Gin decided that repainting it would make it more inconspicuous."

Ai sighed. "Kudo, I honestly don't think it was him," she replied, and then paused. "Are you sure that you're not so insistent on the idea because you want to find some way to prove to Ayumi that Gin is a horrible person?" She studied his eyes as they flickered with first shock and then disbelief, and she smiled slightly in her wry, amused way. "If Gin kidnapped her, then you wouldn't have to prove anything. He would prove it himself. And then you wouldn't have to worry about Ayumi idolizing a twisted killer."

Conan's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment as he tried to come up with a response. He wanted to say that Ai was wrong, but as her words sunk in, he realized that she was right, at least partially. Conan supposed that in a way, he _wanted_ it to be Gin who had taken Ayumi, for surely then Ayumi would realize that he was not someone to trust. And yet, on the other hand, he did not want it to be Gin because he hated to think what he might do to a sweet and innocent child such as Ayumi.

Ai turned away, knowing that she had made her point. She looked around the darkened streets, and then up at the clear sky filled with stars. There were clouds off in the distance, and it looked as though they would eventually cover the sky.

"Maybe . . . maybe you don't want it to be Gin."

Ai blinked at Conan's voice, but did not speak, waiting for him to continue.

"Maybe you want to believe that he really did protect Ayumi because he wanted to do something kind." Conan came up behind her, following her gaze to the heavens. He was silent for another moment as he gathered his thoughts. "Haibara . . . you loved him, didn't you?" he said quietly. He had never been certain of her past relationship with the assassin, but he had started to suspect, especially after the first time Ayumi had disappeared and then had been returned telling of how Gin had helped her. Ai had since become even more reflective and withdrawn on the subject of the Black Organization, and he had noticed a wistful quality to her eyes when she spoke of Gin, as if she was remembering a much different time in his life.

Now Ai's eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. She could not find words to say, nor did she want to say them. This was still a subject that she did not want to discuss. Her expression dissolved into sadness and she walked forward, putting distance between her and Conan.

Conan sighed, watching her. He supposed that he should not have approached the subject. The words had just suddenly leaped from his mouth, and he felt certain of their truth, even more so when he saw Ai's reaction. He was trying to determine what course of action he should take next when his cell phone rang. Quickly he reached for it and answered. "Hello?"

"Shinichi!" He recognized Dr. Agasa's voice. "Where are you and Haibara right now?"

Conan told him of their location and their discoveries, though he refrained from saying anything about their conversation. That was a private matter.

"Well," Dr. Agasa said, when explanations were finished, "I'm with Genta and Mitsuhiko. We found each other while looking for Ayumi, and they said that they had been going past the Hiragi Apartments when they saw a black Porsche fly out of the parking lot."

Conan gasped, his eyes widening. Then that must have been Gin. Two black Porsches in the city would be ridiculous. "Did they see who was in it?" he asked anyway.

"They couldn't tell, it went by so fast," Dr. Agasa answered apologetically, "but I knew you would want to know about it. They said that it turned toward the coast. It might be headed for the docks." He paused. "And apparently there was an uproar at the apartment complex," he reported. "The police found one of the suites in an uproar, and a woman was dead in the bedroom."

Now Conan was further stunned, and he wondered if Gin had been at work assassinating someone again. "Do they know who owned the apartment?" he wanted to know.

"Let me see . . . I believe it was a . . . Ling Hi Sou," Dr. Agasa said then. "Strange name."

Conan frowned. "That is strange," he agreed. "Can you pick us up, Dr. Agasa? We should get to the docks as soon as possible!" He had to catch the black Porsche. Maybe he would be able to find a clue to Ayumi's whereabouts. Surely Gin was involved in some way, even if he had not done the kidnapping! Conan was certain of it.

"I'm on my way," Dr. Agasa promised as he hung up.

By now Ai had curiously wandered over to Conan again. "What's happening?" she asked quietly, as if their previous conversation had not taken place. She was content to not speak more about it, though she knew that Conan's question would continue to stay with her. _"You loved him, didn't you?"_ She could never forget how much she had loved him, how she had looked up to him, how she had wanted to always be with him. . . . She would always carry the pain of those memories with her.

Conan started and looked over at her. "The black Porsche was seen," he reported grimly. "Gin is around here somewhere." _Maybe not in the way we think, but he's here,_ he added to himself.

* * *

The docks were still and dark at night, with the only sounds being that of the waves lapping against the piers. The warehouses looked mysterious and foreboding, especially with the ships, crates, and cranes all casting heavy shadows over them. In the sky, the clouds were beginning to take over, blotting out the stars from view and now aiming toward the hapless moon.

Vodka swallowed hard as Gin parked in front of a random building. He had the eerie sort of feeling that they were walking into a deathtrap, but of course it would not be the first time. In their line of work, it happened almost every day. "What are we going to do with the girl, bro?" he asked hesitantly. On the one hand, it did not seem safe to leave her there. But bringing her along could cause problems too, as it had the last time.

Panicked, Ayumi reached out and grabbed Gin's arm. "Please don't leave me here, all alone!" she begged, tears coming to her eyes. She did not see how she could bear that. It would be far worse than going with them and getting into whatever trouble awaited. She could not stand simply having to wait and worry over what was going on with people whom she held dear.

Gin grunted, looking at her emotionlessly. Then he started to get out of the car. After a moment he reached for her and lifted her out as well. "As before, if we leave her here, our enemies could get her again and use her against us all the more," he muttered in explanation. "And when she's so ill, I'd rather be able to see how she's faring. When we get the antidote, it would be better to give it to her immediately instead of having to fight off Hi Sou's army first." Even knowing that Ling's true last name was Ushio did not make Gin feel like calling him that. Ushio to him was the pedophile. And Ling was something else, just as deadly, but in different ways.

Ayumi smiled weakly, hugging Gin around the neck. He grumbled, but allowed her to do this for a moment.

Slowly Vodka got out of the car, pulling out his gun. "But how will we even know where to look?" he demanded. "They could be at any one of these warehouses, or even on one of the ships!"

"I think I've made a good guess as to where to begin." Gin nodded to the crane nearby. "When that person called earlier and was taunting us both, I could hear a lot of background noises. After we got that riddle, I started to realize that the sounds were like the cranes here at the docks. Whichever warehouse they're at, I decided it must be one with a crane nearby. Those are the ones closest to the water. The cranes lift things from the ships to the warehouses."

Vodka looked at the ominous water nervously as they walked across the dock to the warehouse. He was content to stay as far away from it as he could.

Gin's hunch turned out to be correct. At the second warehouse with a crane that they came to, a figure was standing atop the roof. He could not be recognized at first, but when he spoke Gin knew that it was his latest enemy. His green eyes narrowed in hatred.

"Agent Gin! I was certain you'd find me eventually. But I didn't think Agent Vodka would be with you. You're taking quite a chance, aren't you?" Ling crossed his arms, watching them with amusement and enjoyment. And he noticed Gin was carrying the child. Obviously Gin was hoping to get the other part of the antidote. Well, Ling would give it to him. He had only wanted to get Ayumi hurt to make a rift between Gin and Vodka, and that seemed not to have worked. And in any case, Ayumi was an innocent child. Ling had never planned that she would actually die.

Gin glowered up at him. "Actually, you're the one who took a chance," he snapped. "You should have known better than to try to cause trouble for us. And you dragged the girl into it!" He took several steps forward, furious, and held up his gun.

"I don't deny it," Ling said calmly. "Come up here, all of you. I'll hand over the antidote, but only the girl will be allowed to go free."

"What's your problem?" Vodka cried indignantly. "You must've known what kind of person Ushio was! Why are you blaming us for what happened to him?" He watched Gin find the outside staircase leading to the roof and then quickly followed.

Ling watched them ascend the stairs, his expression changing to one of dark fury that closely matched Gin's. "It wasn't as if he was entirely bad," he retorted. "I was his step-brother, and he always treated me with kindness even when no one else would. But you killed him in cold blood!" He held his own gun on Gin as he arrived at the top, followed closely by Vodka.

"I killed him because he deserved to die," Gin answered coldly, "and because he would've killed me if I hadn't." He held onto Ayumi firmly. "Give me what she needs."

"Of course." Ling drew out another vial and a wrapped needle, and set them both on a crate that was between them. "Lay the girl down there and see that she gets the remedy. Then you and I have business to settle." He studied Gin as the blonde moved forward and set Ayumi on the crate in a sitting position, then stood in front of her to administer the antidote. Vodka stood to the side, covering Gin and regarding Ling with suspicion.

Ayumi looked up at Ling, her blue eyes showing many emotions, but Ling was stunned to see that a form of understanding was one of them. "Hi Sou-san," she said softly, "this was all because you love your brother?" She bit her lip. "I . . . I'm sorry that he had to die, when it makes you sad. It's good that you could see that he wasn't all bad. Gin-sama is that way too." She smiled sadly. "Everyone thinks he's such a horrible person, but I know that he still has a lot of goodness left, too!"

Gin growled. "Don't talk about me to him," he broke in, and pushed the needle into her arm.

Ayumi winced, shuddering, but willed herself to bear the pain in silence this time. She looked back to Ling, who was simply staring at her in disbelief. "What you've done isn't right at all, Hi Sou-san," she said now, "but . . . I can understand that you love your brother."

At last Ling found his voice. "You've got a precocious kid there, Agent Gin," he said in a low tone, "and she seems to be making a plea for me to stop. But I won't." He snapped his fingers, and several of his contacts burst through the inside door to the roof, all bearing guns. "I'm going to finish what I started. Ayumi can go free, but you and Agent Vodka have to die."

Ayumi screamed. "No!" she wailed, and tried to jump down from the crate to run to Ling in order to beg for their lives to be spared. But Gin grabbed her firmly and held her back.

"She'll stay up here if we let her," the blonde remarked. "She has to be sent down before any gun is fired."

A bullet whizzed past, clipping Gin's cheek. Growling, he looked up with murder in his eyes for whoever had pulled the trigger. And before he could determine who it was, gunfire rang out from every direction. He did not have any choice but to shoot back. As he did, he shoved Ayumi to the floor of the roof, where she was hidden behind the crate. "Stay there!" he ordered, dodging a round aimed at him.

Terrified, Ayumi did not have any choice but to obey. She cringed, listening to the sounds of the gunfire all above and around her, and was horrified every time she heard a pained scream, fearing that it was Gin or Vodka. And then she would cautiously peer around the side of the crate, making sure that she could still see Gin's trenchcoat. Once she would see that he was still safe, she would duck behind the box again as more bullets rained down.

Gin growled in frustration, furious that the battle had to take place before Ayumi had gotten off the roof. A stray bullet could easily hit her. But he was trying to shield her by standing in front of the crate. He took down another of Ling's men, and coldly he watched the other plunge backward off the roof to the ground below.

There were still others. On the side of the roof which overlooked the ocean, Vodka was grappling with a strong and fiery man who was at least a foot taller than himself. Each was struggling to get hold of one gun. The other had been lost during the fight, though neither cared as to whose it had been. As Gin watched, the remaining gun went off twice and the bigger man stumbled back. Vodka had landed two bullets to his chest. But he was still unwilling to give up. Furiously he lunged, and the fight for the weapon began again. After a moment there was another shot, but Gin could not tell which one had been wounded.

Vodka's opponent seemed to be on his last leg now, but he was still unwilling to go down---at least, not without Vodka. He lost his balance, and Gin caught sight of blood coming from a shoulder wound that Vodka had sustained before the shorter man was dragged overboard by the other. Then Gin heard a splash as they apparently hit the water.

Cursing, the blonde shot another who was in his way and ran to the edge, staring into the water's depths below. They had both gone under, and neither was coming up. They were probably continuing their mortal combat, since the man Vodka had been fighting had seemed bent on it. Gin could see bubbles rising to the surface. "Darn it, Vodka!" he yelled, though not exactly in those terms. Vodka could not swim. Even if he was able to get free from the other, he would drown.

Seeing that he was preoccupied, Ling lunged for the kill. Ayumi, who was peering out to see what Gin had yelled about, screamed. Gin whirled around, shooting Ling first in one leg, then the other. With a gasp the raven-haired man tumbled off the roof, and Gin heard him cry out as he hit the ground below. When the green-eyed man went to the other side to look over, he could see Ling laying at the bottom, very still.

Assuming that he was dead, Gin pulled off his coat and hat and went back to the other side. As he had thought, neither had come up for air. Cursing once more, he tossed the apparel onto the crate.

Cautiously Ayumi looked out again. "Gin-sama?" she said worriedly. "What are you going to do? What happened to Vodka-san?" Tears filled her eyes. "Is he dead?"

Gin growled. "I honestly couldn't say," he replied, and dove off the side of the roof. After a moment Ayumi heard another splash.


	6. Going Under

**Chapter Six**

Vodka felt panic-stricken as he and the man he had been fighting tumbled into the water. Immediately he was dragged under, and as their desperate battle continued the further they fell, painful and frightening memories swirled through Vodka's mind. The aqueous depths were closing in, grabbing at him from all angles, and even though he was trying to force himself back to the surface, it was not being allowed. Both his opponent and the very water itself were holding him down, but Vodka kicked out, catching one of the other's wounds. With a growl of pain, he fell back slightly and Vodka was able to get free of his grasp.

Again he clawed for the top. Drowning was the way in which he was most afraid to die. Over and over an incident from his childhood played out in his mind. Because he was a quiet person who did not know how to socialize with others, he had often been tormented by some of the other agents in training. On the occasion in question, Vodka had been seven, and he had not been given a codename yet, so he was still called by his given name Hiroshi. A particular clique of his fellow agents in training had shoved him into a swimming pool at the base's recreational quarter, then had simply laughed when he had flailed about helplessly. He had been panicked, certain that he would die then. They had not been helping him, and there had not been anything for him to grab onto. He remembered going down once, then twice, and when he had struggled to the surface after that, a new, indignant voice had joined the mockers.

_"So this is how you guys get your kicks, by throwing people in the water and watching them nearly drown? That's pretty pathetic!"_

_Hiroshi could only hear the voice faintly, what with his panicked splashing about. But he remembered thinking that it belonged to one of the rambunctious protégés._

_Ryou, the ringleader in the attack---and the future Agent Brandy---laughed nervously. "Come on, we were just kidding around, Enok," he stammered. The Enok he spoke to was one of the Black Organization leader's favorite agents in training. He was rowdy, and sometimes got into what he should not, but he was also extremely sharp-witted and clever, and it often seemed as though he was able to see into one's soul. This seemed to be the effect he was having on Ryou now._

_"Well, go find something better to do with your time." Enok crossed the room to the pool's edge and threw in a life preserver. "Here," he said to Hiroshi._

_Gratefully Hiroshi grabbed onto it and managed to float over to the steps leading out of the water. He climbed them shakily and then fell to his knees on the tiled floor, breathing heavily and shivering. He tried not to think about how frightening it had been, to be pulled under the water repeatedly and to not have any control over it, but the images kept coming to him. And even though he did not think that Ryou and the others would have actually let him drown, he was not anxious to encounter them again any time soon._

_Slowly he looked up at the other child, who was simply standing over him expressionlessly. "Th-thank you," he choked out, coughing on a bit of water he had not realized that he had swallowed._

_Enok shrugged. "Everybody says I make trouble, but I don't go around doing the kinds of things Ryou and his friends do," he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark blue shorts. "I don't see what's funny about it." He half-turned, his shoulder-length blonde hair whipping around his neck. Enok was a foreigner, one of the many protégés who hailed from elsewhere than Japan, but Hiroshi was not sure at all where he was supposed to be from._

_Finally gathering enough strength to speak without gasping, Hiroshi sat up and then got to his feet. Even though he was such a shy person by nature, he felt a certain connection with his rescuer and he found himself wanting to talk to the other. "Why were you over here, anyway?" he asked curiously._

_"Just walkin' around," Enok answered, in what Hiroshi thought sounded like a defensive tone._

_"I've . . . seen you around the base a lot," Hiroshi ventured now. And it was true that he had, but he had never had the nerve to try to talk to the blonde._

_"Yeah? I don't remember seein' you." Enok turned back to face him. "'Course, I'm not good with remembering people or anything like that," he admitted. Hiroshi got the feeling that the other boy was very aloof, which was another reason why he had never tried to speak to him. Hiroshi had decided that it would only be pestering._

_"Oh," was all he could think to say now. "I'm Hiroshi," he offered after a moment._

_"You oughtta get into some dry clothes, or you might catch a cold, Hiroshi," Enok returned. He looked ready to vanish through a side door, but before he could, a middle-aged man whom Hiroshi knew was one of the Organization's highest-ranked members entered and grabbed Enok's arm._

_"So, here you are," he frowned, "getting into more trouble after you already disrupted the lab. What did you do this time?" He took in the scene around him and spotted Hiroshi's drenched form. "Dunking other kids in the pool? You should be ashamed of yourself."_

_Alarmed, Hiroshi ran over to them, not bothering to think about speaking out of turn. "No!" he exclaimed. "That wasn't it at all! He was trying to help me after Ryou and his gang pushed me into the pool!" He looked up at the man desperately, even as Enok tore free from the tight grip._

_The agent frowned. "Ryou, eh?" he mused. "Well, I can believe that." He looked to Enok. "Is that true?"_

_"Yeah," Enok answered matter-of-factly. He looked more bored than anything else over this encounter. Hiroshi had the feeling that Enok had gone through many such meetings with this agent in the past._

_"It's good of you, to look after your fellow agents in training," the man remarked now, his expression still stern. "For all you know, someday Hiroshi might be your partner." He grabbed Enok's arm again. "But that still doesn't excuse the disaster you caused earlier."_

_"I know," Enok replied._

_Hiroshi bit his lip, watching as Enok was dragged off. "You won't get punished too much, will you?" he asked._

_"I doubt it," Enok answered, unconcerned._

_Hiroshi never saw Enok again after that._

It was strange, the things one would remember while dying. Vodka could see it all in his mind as clearly as if it had happened before the current plunge he had taken. He was still trying to gain the surface, but he had been pulled down so far by the other man, and since he could not swim, he could not find any way to get back up. He sank further, wondering if this would be the end. Gin was probably busy fighting off Ling and whatever gunmen were left. Had he even noticed that Vodka had fallen, or would he care even if he had noticed?

Asphyxiation was setting in now. Vodka gasped for breath in a panic, swallowing water. Darkness clouded his vision and he felt it sweep over him, combining forces with the water. Unable to fight it any longer, Vodka fell back into its embrace. Vaguely he was aware of a hand grabbing onto his wrist, but then he knew no more.

-------------------

Gin cursed in his mind as he dove in after Vodka. He could see that Ling's associate had managed to drag Gin's partner quite far down, and he was still repeatedly trying to get hold of Vodka to take him still deeper. It seemed that he did not want to die without an enemy. Gin watched as Vodka struggled against the other, seeming to be lost in another world. Quickly Gin swam down to where they were. Vodka had kicked the bigger man away, and as Gin tried to get over to his comrade, their nemesis suddenly turned his attention to the blonde.

As his ankle was grabbed, Gin lashed out, hitting the other in the face to get free. It worked, but in a moment he was grabbed again, more viciously. Gin was forced to wrestle with him for what seemed an eternity, but which was actually not more than a minute. His opponent, and Vodka, had been down there longer than Gin had, and this man was also suffering from the two bullet wounds that had been inflicted during his fight with Vodka over the gun. He went limp, both from blood loss and lack of oxygen.

Gin pushed him away now. He was dead, but hopefully Vodka had not met the same fate. Swimming to where his comrade was still sinking, Gin grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him up. He could feel that the other was limp, and he mentally cursed again, draping Vodka's uninjured arm over his shoulders and putting his own arm around the other's waist. As swiftly as he could, the blonde rose to the surface, breaking through in time to be pelted with the beginnings of a snowstorm.

He coughed harshly, gasping for air, and noticed that Vodka had not responded. The other was still limp, and Gin growled to himself.

"Gin-sama! Gin-sama!"

He looked up, seeing Ayumi running to the edge of the pier. Alarmed, she knelt down and leaned forward, tears glistening in her blue eyes. "Gin-sama!" she sobbed. "Is Vodka-san dead?" She had been worried for both of them when Gin had jumped overboard, and, gathering his hat and coat, she had hurried down from the roof and over to where she could hopefully see when he would come up for air. She was relieved to see that he was alright, but panic for Vodka's safety swept over her.

Gin coughed again, water dripping from his drenched bangs. He hoisted Vodka's lifeless body onto the pier and then climbed up as well, turning the other onto his back. Vodka was still bleeding from the shoulder wound, but Gin ignored that as he bent down, checking for any sign of life. As far as he could tell, Vodka's breath was stilled, as was his heart. Muttering to himself, he began to press on Vodka's chest, both in an attempt to restart his heart and to get him to cough up the water he had swallowed. The other remained unresponsive, and Gin cursed to himself.

Ayumi, meanwhile, was panicking. Gin had not answered her question, and from his actions, she could gather that Vodka did not seem to be alive. As the tears continued to fall, she grabbed at Vodka's large hand with both of her own small ones. "Please wake up, Vodka-san!" she begged desperately. "Please! You have to! You can't go away! I don't want you to, and Gin-sama would be sad!"

Gin stared at her, his eyes widening in shock at her innocent words. She was a child; she did not understand that as an assassin, Gin was trained to not care about anyone. Vodka was his partner, nothing more. Gin helped him because he was loyal to the other agents as long as they were loyal in return. At least, that was what he told himself. He tried again to revive the other, but did not have any success.

He leaned back, exasperated and upset, though the only real indications of that were his eyes, half-hidden by the wet fringe of bangs. "So," he muttered, "you can be taken out this easily? Pathetic. It's a wonder you lasted in the Organization for as long as you did." He was unaware of how tightly he was clenching his fist until he felt a prick of pain. Looking down, he discovered that he had punctured the skin on his palm. He cursed to himself.

He was not certain why, but he felt compelled to try a third time to resuscitate Vodka. Just foolish desperation, he decided, but he bent over the other once more, pressing harshly on Vodka's chest. He did not get a response, as he had assumed he would not, but he felt as if he had received a cold slap to his face. He cursed low, staring at the heavyset man's pale face before pulling back. It was useless.

It was hard to imagine going on without Vodka, Gin realized, even if he just thought of him as a partner. In fact, Gin was not certain if he fully had accepted the idea of the other's death. It was as if he had simply blocked it out. It was before him, and he realized it, but he did not acknowledge it, as if it was something unreal that he was viewing through a sort of filmlike gauze.

Abruptly he was startled back into the present when Vodka started coughing. He watched in astonishment as the other rolled onto his side and then got to his hands and knees, choking on the water until he got all of it out. Then he slumped back on the dock, staring up into the snow-filled sky. He was alive. He could barely believe it. He had been certain that he was going to die. But . . . how was it possible that he had not? He knew that he never could have made it out of the water by himself.

Before he could stop to think about it, he was suddenly embraced by an overjoyed Ayumi. "Vodka-san!" she exclaimed happily, her eyes shining. "You're alright!"

He did not even know how on earth to react. The last thing he expected to be greeted with upon reviving was an enthusiastic child. While he tried to determine what to say, he happened to cast his gaze around until he noticed Gin kneeling on his other side. The blonde was completely drenched, his hair and clothes clinging to his face and body. Vodka stared at him, suddenly realizing why it was that he was still alive.

Gin's expression never changed, but he could tell that Vodka was aware of what had been done for him. He grunted, letting his bangs fall completely over his eyes. "Well," he spoke finally, "I underestimated you."

Vodka blinked at him in confusion while at the same time absently putting an arm around Ayumi. Honestly, that child had a way of worming into people's hearts, including those who believed that they did not possess any such thing. "What do you mean, bro?" he asked, finally finding his voice.

"I thought you were dead," Gin answered simply.

"Oh," Vodka said then, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He wanted to thank the other for saving his life, but he knew that Gin was not expecting that and that he would probably feel uncomfortable himself if Vodka brought it up. Vodka could easily imagine Gin turning away and muttering something about having done it because he was loyal to the other operatives, if they were loyal to him. And Vodka knew that was true. But as Gin turned his attention to the steadily falling snow, the other was almost certain that he had caught a trace of a smile---or perhaps a smirk---on the blonde's features. And Vodka wondered if, instead of merely feeling it a duty, Gin had saved him simply because he had wanted to.

Abruptly a bullet tore past Gin again, this time narrowly missing him. Angrily he whirled around, looking for the source. It seemed to have come from the direction of the warehouse, but when he looked, no one was there. Someone was hiding and sniping at them.

Vodka looked over at the other, having heard the bullet sail by. "Bro?" he said nervously. He went to reach for his gun, but then remembered that he did not have it.

"I thought everyone was either dead or too badly injured to move," Gin growled. Noticing his hat and coat having been laid on a nearby crate---placed there by Ayumi---he searched through the black cloth until he found his gun. Another bullet zipped through the air, this one hitting its mark and catching him in the side. He hissed in pain, clapping a hand over the wound.

Vodka sat up now, alarmed. He looked from Gin to the warehouse, and thought he caught sight of a sniper gun disappearing through one of the second floor windows, the second to the corner. "Up there!" he called, pointing and wishing that he had his own gun. He felt so helpless. Gin had rescued him, but Vodka did not know how to help him in return. Depending on whose gun had been lost during his battle, the weapon was either at the bottom of the ocean or somewhere on the roof.

Ayumi screamed as Gin doubled over, gripping at the wound. She started to get up, wanting to run to him, but he reached out and shoved her to the floor of the dock with his free hand, seeing what she did not. Vodka could only shield her in shock as a steady rain of bullets came from the window before Gin could get out of the way.

Most of them missed, harmlessly sailing around the blonde and drumming into nearby crates or plunging into the water. But the remaining rounds drilled into Gin's body and he froze, his eyes wide in shock and agony, though he did not cry out or even hiss in pain. They had hit with enough force to tear through the bulletproof vest, and it was not merely any sort of ammunition that could do that. As he lost his balance and collapsed to the dock, he cursed in his mind. He had underestimated Ling.

After Gin fell, several more shots were fired before at last there was silence. Vodka did not dare to move for a long moment afterwards, his mind and heart racing. Who was the sniper? Someone Ling had hidden there in case it looked like Gin and Vodka were the victors in the rooftop battle? Whoever it was obviously had access to some very dangerous and deadly weapons. Ling's contacts were top-notch. But . . . had that completely proved to be the other's undoing?

Shakily he looked up, taking in the sight of Gin's battered body several feet away. The other was badly bleeding from the inflicted wounds, and he lay lifelessly on his stomach as the snow fell over him, blood trickling from his mouth. Vodka gasped.

"What is it?" Ayumi cried, trying in panic to rise. "Vodka-san, is Gin-sama hurt?" She had been stunned when Gin had shoved her, but a split second later when she had heard the noise of the bullets, she had understood. And there had been so many. . . . From the way Vodka had noticeably stiffened, Ayumi could sense that something was very wrong. But when she tried to look, Vodka grabbed and restrained her, holding her so that her face was buried in his jacket.

"Don't look," he told her, perhaps more harshly than he intended. The child had found her way into whatever heart he had left, and he could not bear for her to see what had become of Gin. He knew he needed to go over, to see if Gin was possibly still alive, but he felt frozen. He could not make himself move, and he stayed there, holding Ayumi close to him.

The girl struggled, trying to get out of his grasp as her panic only increased tenfold. "What's wrong, Vodka-san?" she screamed, the tears flowing freely down her innocent face. "What's happened to Gin-sama? Is he hurt bad? Is he dead?"

Vodka could not answer her. He stared at Gin's body, aghast, thinking of how he had been rescued by the blonde. And Gin had not wanted Ayumi to be harmed, either. He had worked diligently at getting the antidote for her, and now, at keeping her safe from the bullets, which would have likely killed her in an instant. Gin had expected to be able to get out of the way himself, but he had not succeeded. The blood was pooling under and around him, and Vodka could not believe that he was still alive. Yet . . . he could not bring himself to accept that Gin was dead, either, not when he did not know. And if Gin was possibly alive, he would need immediate medical attention.

The sudden sound of screeching tires brought him to a sharp awareness of their current situation. Were reinforcements coming, or some unsuspecting fool, or someone else entirely? He had not heard sirens, so he did not think that it was the police, but on the other hand he would not know. And he was not willing to take chances.

He released Ayumi, pushing her behind a crate. "Just stay there," he ordered, though he doubted she would. Gin was much better at handling the child than he was. Vodka did not even know what he was going to do now, or what would happen to Ayumi. If it was more of Ling's men, then he could not leave her there. But if it was the police, then it might be better for her to remain. After all, she could not keep staying there with them!

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he made his way to Gin's body and knelt down, swallowing hard as he surveyed the many wounds and the blood. Slowly he reached out, gingerly brushing Gin's hair aside to check for a pulse. He hated to touch his partner at all, afraid of hurting him worse if he was alive.

"Gin-sama! Gin-sama!"

He was not surprised, but he was frustrated when Ayumi ran past him and knelt down as well, sobbing as she hugged Gin around the neck. There was so much blood! He must be dead. Ayumi could not bear it. Her heart was breaking.

"Hey, stop it!" Vodka cried, not knowing how to handle this. And he could hear voices nearby. Growing panicked himself, he pried Ayumi's arms away from the blonde and then carefully reached for the body, pulling it into his arms. Gin's head fell back lifelessly, his form limp as a ragdoll. It haunted Vodka endlessly, to see him like this, and he did not know if Gin's life could even be saved. But at this point, the green-eyed man was still alive. Right before Ayumi had tearfully embraced him, Vodka had found a weak pulse. And Vodka would do all that he could to make sure that Gin lived. Slowly he straightened up, trying hard to not further jostle Gin, and headed in the direction where the car was parked.

Ayumi stared after him for all of a moment before she got up as well, again gathering Gin's coat and hat, and starting to run after him. "Vodka-san!" she called. She had to go with them. She had to know that Gin would be alright, if he was not already dead. And even if he was . . . she wanted to be there. She wanted to know what would happen to his body.

"Ayumi-chan!"

Abruptly a hand reached out, grabbing her shoulder. She started and yelped, whirling around to face an equally astonished Conan. Vodka had ducked out of sight with Gin's body, heading for the Porsche, but Conan had heard Ayumi calling for him, and now the supposed child stared in disbelief at the coat and hat she was desperately trying to hold. He recognized them all too well.

"Ayumi-chan, what happened?" he demanded. "Where have you been? Everyone's been looking for you!"

She sniffled, her blue eyes filled with anguish. "Hi Sou-san took me to try to make Gin-sama and Vodka-san not like each other!" she replied, clutching the coat tightly as she shook from the cold, but more from her sorrow. "He poisoned me, and Gin-sama tried to find what would help, and he and Vodka-san and Hi Sou-san all started fighting with each other!" The others caught up now, and also gazed at Ayumi in shock as she continued her tear-filled story. Though she often became upset and worried when things looked bleak, right now she was absolutely and completely disheartened and broken. It was heart-wrenching to watch.

"Vodka-san fell in the water, and he couldn't swim, but Gin-sama got him out and he was okay. . . . But then someone started shooting!" She ran the cloth of the coat over her cheek, remembering how safe and warm she had felt when Gin had held her. He would never hold her again. "Gin-sama . . . he tried to find out where the person was, but he was only able to push me down before all these awful bullets came. . . . He's dead! Oh, I'm afraid he's dead!" she wailed.

Ai froze, staring at the little girl who was tightly gripping Gin's coat and hat. Gin was dead? That seemed so impossible. And her feelings on the news were very mixed. The Gin she knew had died years before, or so she had thought. Sometimes she had wondered what would happen when she confronted him again, whenever the cure for the apoptoxin would be found. She had thought that he would probably kill her, or that she would kill him, or both. She had never imagined him dying before that, and never under such circumstances. She was confused, not knowing what to think at all. But her heart went out to Ayumi, who was obviously shattered.

"Gin is dead?" Conan repeated, narrowing his eyes and focusing on that one statement of Ayumi's. The rest of what she had said was so much to digest, and so astonishing, but this was something that he could more easily process---even though he also found it hard to imagine the feared assassin being taken down so suddenly. But it was easier to think about that than about Ayumi being poisoned and Gin trying to help her.

"Yes!" Ayumi sobbed. "At least . . . he was really hurt bad and there was blood everywhere, and Vodka-san didn't want me to look. . . ." Without warning she turned and fled down the docks. "Vodka-san was taking his body away. I have to find them!" she called back as she ran around a corner.

Conan gawked after her, too stunned to do anything at the moment. But then, snapping out of his trance, he ran forward. "Come on!" he yelled. "We have to get to her!" Everyone immediately followed, and as Conan ran, he tried to sort out the bewildered thoughts going through his mind. Was it as Ai had believed, that Gin did not want harm to come to Ayumi, for whatever reason? And was he truly dead?

Before he had time to really process all of his thoughts, he heard a car engine starting. Cursing in his mind, he ran faster, heading in the direction where the sound was loudest. But when he reached the location, nothing was there. Vague tire tracks were in the snow, but they soon disappeared into the slick wetness. Conan also took note of the blood that was all around, coloring the snow red. Definitely someone had been badly injured, but he wondered if Vodka would have gotten away so quickly if he had only had a corpse with him. And where was Ayumi?

Though they looked everywhere for her, she was not to be found. Conan could only conclude that she had somehow gotten into the black Porsche and left with the two assassins, and he tightly clenched his fists. _We were so close,_ he thought to himself, _but we still lost her. And what's she gotten into now?_ He looked around the area, taking in the sight of the dead and injured bodies. _And what really did happen here? _he wondered then. _Was it like Ayumi said?_ He was determined to find out, and to find the little girl.

--------------------

A lone figure watched all of this from the window second to the corner on the warehouse's second floor. Slowly he ducked down, not wanting to be seen, and began dismantling his sniper rifle. Gin was surely dead now. And if he was not, he would not have much hope for survival. One way or another, he would lose this battle and Ushio would be avenged. Then his step-brother would finally be at peace.

After getting the weapon into its case, the figure pushed it across the floor, crawling after it painstakingly. From his badly bandaged legs, two trails of blood dripped onto the rotting wood.


	7. At the Base

**Chapter Seven**

When Ayumi ran desperately around the corner, clutching the dark coat and hat to her heart, she came upon the place where the black Porsche was parked. The door on the left side was open, and she dove in a split second before Vodka slammed it shut. She found herself in the back, and she looked around dazedly.

Gin was laying on the seat on an old blanket, very still and cold. His shirt had been torn off and used to create makeshift bandages for the visible wounds, and blood had seeped through most of them. His eyes were hidden behind the long bangs and the blood had been wiped from his mouth, and there was an expression of pain across his features. He still looked dead, and Ayumi threw aside her bundle and grabbed his clammy hand with a sob.

Vodka, who had been about to drive away, started and looked back. "What are you doing here?" he cried in shock. When he had heard another child calling Ayumi's name, he had assumed that it was a search party looking for her and that she would stay with them. Now that she had come back, he did not know what to do. He could not waste time. Gin needed immediate medical care.

"I had to come back," Ayumi replied, her voice breaking as she held the limp hand up to her cheek. "Vodka-san, is Gin-sama dead?" She stumbled over the question, dreading the answer. And yet she had to know.

Vodka swallowed hard. "Not yet," he said shortly, turning the key and starting the engine. He hoped that he would be able to drive. His shoulder was aching and he was still weak from his own experience, but he had to somehow force himself to succeed. He was the only one who could get them back to the base. Quickly he sped away and switched on the heat, deciding that there was not time to worry about Ayumi coming with them. It would just have to be that way, for now.

Ayumi sat down on the floor, continuing to grip at the cold hand. "He won't, will he?" she whispered, longing for some indication that Gin could hear her and that he would recover. She wished that he was merely asleep, instead of being near death and so badly hurt. He might appear to be asleep, if it was not that he was so pale and that he did not look to be at peace.

Vodka glared ahead into the falling snow. "I don't know!" he snapped, feeling helpless.

Ayumi bit her lip. "Can I talk to him?" she asked softly.

"I'm not stopping you," Vodka replied uncomfortably. "Just . . . don't look out the window! I have to take Gin back to the base to see if the doctors there can help him, and you can't know how to get there. That would only be bad for all of us."

Ayumi nodded agreeably. She did not care where they were going, as long as Gin would receive the help he so desperately needed. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of the blonde's cool flesh against her cheek. His hand felt so lifeless! Ayumi could hardly stand it. The tears broke loose again.

"Gin-sama," she wailed, unable to calm down, "please wake up! Please don't leave us! You've gotta keep fighting. Vodka-san doesn't want you to go!" Vodka gripped the steering wheel tighter. "And . . . and I love you, Gin-sama! I love you, so much. . . ." She slipped under his arm, pretending that he was holding her, and laid her head gently against his chest. The soft, slowing thump of his heart swiftly put her to sleep, and she remained that way, snuggled against her precious friend, all the way to the base.

------------------------------

Vodka had called ahead to briefly explain what had happened and that they would need medics to be ready and waiting. He was relieved to see them outside the base upon arrival. He hated having to move Gin's body himself, afraid that he would do worse damage. Without stopping to think about what Ayumi might be doing, he unlocked the doors so that they could get Gin out of the car.

If he had actually stopped to think, he would have tried to get Ayumi out of sight first. But he was much too concerned over Gin to bother. And anyway, in the back of his mind, he figured that he could not keep her hidden for as long as she was there. Someone would see her eventually, no matter what he did. He wished she had not climbed back into the car. He doubted that Gin would be pleased with this development . . . if he survived long enough to know about it. Perhaps he would even believe that Vodka should have taken the extra time to rout her back out of the car again. She was not supposed to know anything about their base, after all. But at least she did not know how to get there, and Vodka would make certain that she did not wander all around everywhere. And as soon as possible, he would take her back---if he could figure out where to take her to.

He watched the medics come over to the car and look inside. The first's expression became a picture of shock as he surveyed Gin's form. "He's in bad shape," he remarked with a low whistle, and then he stared. "Hey, what's this kid doing here?" he cried, seeing Ayumi curled up at Gin's side. She stirred, blinking up at the newcomer but not really comprehending.

Vodka cursed in his mind. "Nevermind the kid!" he snapped then. "Just help my partner!"

Ayumi moved away from Gin slowly, still waking up. "Are you going to make Gin-sama feel better?" she asked pleadingly as she looked the people over and determined their profession.

"'Gin-sama'?" the first one repeated as they carefully lifted him out onto the stretcher. He shook his head. "We'll do all we can, but we can't make any promises," he answered then. "It looks like your 'Gin-sama' was shot at least five times, and some of them went all the way through him. If he was someone else, he would probably already be dead." Gin was notorious for his endurance, always pushing himself to do things that many people could not imagine doing. He was vicious, and even as a child he had been a strong fighter. But not even he would be able to live forever.

"There were other bullets too," Vodka said darkly as he got out and stood in the snow that was gathering. Ayumi scampered out beside him, after taking up the coat and hat. "The vest caught at least four others." He clenched a fist, bitterly wondering why it could not have stopped all of them. He supposed, logically, that the varying angles and velocities could account for that, but that did not help him to accept it more easily. Still, he supposed he should be grateful. If all of the bullets had entered Gin's body, there was little hope that he would be alive at all right now.

The second medic uttered a low exclamation as they headed for the doors leading to the infirmary wing. "I honestly don't think you should expect him to live the night," he said quietly.

Vodka knew that was likely true, but he would not acknowledge it. He could never forget the horror of seeing Gin's health deteriorate from the poison several weeks previous to this. Gin had not fully recovered from that, and now he had this to deal with.

"You need to get that shoulder wound taken care of, too," the first medic spoke up now. "The kid can stay in the waiting room." They seemed to assume that she was one of the protégés, and Vodka did not tell them differently. It was not their business anyway, and if they would continue to believe that she was an agent in training, that was fine with him.

Ayumi swallowed hard, not liking that idea. "I don't know anyone here," she protested worriedly in a quiet tone, watching as the first two medics wheeled Gin into the emergency room. "Vodka-san, can't I come with you? I don't want to be alone!" The thought panicked her more than she already was. She did not want to be by herself in a strange place, especially while she was worrying over the safety of someone whom she greatly cared about. She wanted to have someone there whom she knew and trusted, and she doubted that she would be allowed to call Conan or the others, even if it would just be to talk to them over the phone and not to have them come there.

Vodka felt overwhelmed. "It shouldn't take them long to do what they have to do," he answered finally. "If you just stay in the waiting room and don't go anywhere, I'll find you when they're done." He noticed that they were approaching it now, and he pointed to a nearby chair. "Just sit there and wait for me," he directed.

Ayumi's shoulders slumped, but she nodded in resignation. Going to the indicated chair, she set Gin's coat down in it and kept the hat in her hands, turning it around shakily. She wondered if Gin would ever wear it again. But then she did not want to think any more about it. He would be alright. He had to be! Reverently she placed the fedora on her own head, and it immediately fell over her eyes. Pushing it up again, she curled up in the chair with the coat around her like a quilt.

Vodka had to admit, he was not sure whether he was disturbed, amused, or touched by the sight---or all three at once. Shaking his head, he followed the third medic down the hall.

----------------------------------

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

Ayumi started out of a doze. As she tried to gather her thoughts and remember where she was, the hat fell over her eyes again. But as she went to lift it, someone else did it for her. She found herself looking at an amused woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Quickly she became completely awake.

"Who are you?" she gasped, feeling nervous. Now and then she had watched various people coming in and going out of the medical wing, mostly the doctors and nurses and other personnel. But this woman did not look as though the infirmary was the department in which she worked.

The stranger smiled, placing a finger over her lips and winking. "A secret makes a woman, woman," she proclaimed, and lifted the hat from Ayumi's head. "Does Gin know you've stolen his hat and coat?" she asked in obvious amusement.

Ayumi pouted, sitting up and reaching for the fedora. "I didn't steal them!" she said indignantly. "Gin-sama had to take them off to go rescue Vodka-san when he was drowning. I've been keeping them to give back to him, but . . ." She felt a lump rise in her throat, and she tried to swallow it. Failing, a pained sob tore free from her lips and the tears began to fall again. "I don't know if he's gonna be okay!" she wailed.

The woman frowned now, continuing to keep the hat as she ran a hand over it. "And what did happen to him?" she asked. The word around the base was that Gin had been fatally injured, but no one she had spoken to seemed to know the circumstances or if he was dead yet. And the sight of the small girl wrapped in Gin's trenchcoat and wearing his hat had definitely been a sight for pause. She could not believe that Gin would ever allow it---not that he would have much say in the matter at the moment. And in any case, she was amazed that any child would idolize him as much as this one obviously did. She was intrigued.

"He got shot a whole lot," Ayumi answered, still trying to get the hat. "We were having so much trouble because of Hi Sou-san! He tried to make Gin-sama and Vodka-san mad at each other, and he took me and made me think it was Vodka-san, and he poisoned me, and Gin-sama was trying to help me . . ." Here she trailed off, over and over seeing in her mind Gin laying lifeless on the dock in a pool of blood. Vodka had not wanted her to look, but she had felt that she had to know what had happened to Gin. Now the images would not leave her.

"I see," the female blonde remarked when Ayumi paused for breath. "It certainly sounds as though you've had your share of trouble. Vodka almost drowned? And Gin was shot?" Ayumi weakly nodded. "And you call him 'Gin-sama'. That's quite a title of respect, you know." She placed the hat back on the child's head. "I'd like to hear about it, if you wouldn't mind telling me."

Ayumi sniffled. She was not sure yet what to make of this woman, but she seemed nice enough, and Ayumi was glad for some company. "Okay," she agreed softly.

-------------------------------------

Vodka did not know what he expected to see when he finally headed back to the waiting room after having the wound treated and getting some dry clothes from his suite, but it was not the sight of Ayumi still wearing Gin's hat and talking to an apparently interested Vermouth. For a moment he hesitated to even go over, as Vermouth was not someone he wanted to encounter right now, but she sensed that they were being watched and looked up, seeing him.

"Ah, so here you are, Vodka," she smiled, or perhaps smirked. "Ayumi was just telling me about all of your misadventures. My, you have been busy."

Vodka flushed. He started to reply, but then forgot about whatever he was trying to come up with as he was hugged by Ayumi as she climbed down from the chair.

"Vermouth-san is really nice!" she beamed. "She says she knows you and Gin-sama really well!"

Vodka looked at her in disbelief, then over at the calm Vermouth. "I don't know that I'd put it like that," he said finally, and knew that if Gin was there, he would grunt in derision and light a cigarette, saying something in irritation that Vermouth would respond to with delight. She enjoyed taunting him so much.

"Oh, after all the years we've known each other?" Vermouth said now in mock hurt. Vodka flushed.

Ayumi giggled softly, watching them. But then worry came over her features and she could not conceal it. "Vodka-san, have you heard anything about Gin-sama?" she pleaded, looking up at him.

Vodka sighed, shaking his head. "I haven't heard anything," he replied. "All I know is that they have him in surgery . . . and that he'll probably be there for a while." He actually had found out a bit more than this, but he did not want to tell it to Ayumi. When he glanced at Vermouth, however, he could see that she realized he was not telling everything.

She reached into her purse, taking out a bit of change. "Here," she said to the surprised child, "go get yourself something at the vending machine. You must be starved." She smirked mischievously. "I don't imagine you've been getting anything to eat amidst all of these disasters."

Ayumi now realized that she had not eaten since lunch at school. She looked at Vermouth and smiled. "Thank you, Vermouth-san!" she said, and hurried across the room to where the machines were.

Vermouth stood up now and came over to Vodka. Firmly she took him by the arm and led him into a corner, much to his discomfort. Then she looked at him seriously. "You didn't tell her everything, Vodka," she commented as she let go of his arm. "What else did you find out?"

Vodka sighed, looking at the floor. He knew Vermouth would not give up until she had learned it, so even though he did not especially want to tell her, he did anyway. "He died on the operating table," he answered quietly. "Some of the bullets . . . they got him in the chest, and one was really close to his heart. That one was still there . . . and when the surgeons tried to get it out, he just flatlined."

Vermouth gasped softly. More than being astonished over Gin's fate, however, she was stunned by how Vodka was handling it. "But you told Ayumi . . ."

"They got him back," Vodka interrupted, and sighed again, running a hand over his forehead. "But it's really touch-and-go right now. They don't know if they're going to be able to keep him here." He half-turned away. He had not wanted to scare Ayumi with this news. She was already concerned enough about Gin's life. She did not need to know that the possibility of him dying was even greater than she believed. Vodka would not even know how to go about telling her that in the first place.

Vermouth frowned, pondering over this. At last she said, "What are you planning to do with her, Vodka? You know she can't stay here long." She found Ayumi quite intriguing in spite of herself. Any child who could get into Gin's heart the way she had done would have to be extremely unique. But that did not change that she could not remain on the base.

Vodka clenched his fists. "Of course I know," he answered, somewhat defensively. But he did not answer her question. He did not have an answer. He was certain that Gin would know what to do. But that was the irony of their situation.

-----------------------------------

Vodka had lost track of time completely before the doctor came back to inform them of Gin's condition. They had finally gotten him stabilized, the physician said, but things were still very delicate, and Gin needed a blood transfusion.

"I was looking over both of your medical records," the doctor said hesitantly to Vodka, "and I noticed that you have the same less common blood type as your partner. Would you be willing . . ."

"Yes," Vodka interrupted dazedly, not stopping to think about the fact that he had lost blood himself due to the shoulder wound.

This was revealed, however, and it was determined that it would be too dangerous for Vodka to donate blood. But without Vodka doing so, they did not currently have the kind of blood that Gin needed, and so Gin's partner insisted that he be allowed to help, despite the risks to himself. Realizing that Vodka was not likely to give in, the doctor finally agreed out of exasperation.

As Vodka went off down the hall again, in another direction this time, Ayumi laid her head on Vermouth's lap, not able to stifle a yawn. "Vodka-san and Gin-sama care about each other, don't they?" she mumbled. Vermouth had left for a while to take care of some things, and had only returned a few moments previous in time to witness the scene Vodka had made with the doctor.

Now the blonde woman was amused. "They're not trained to care about anyone, including each other," she replied. "Assassins can't afford to have any kinds of ties to anyone, because they could be betrayed at any time, or suddenly be ordered to eliminate someone they know. And if the personal connection is too great, they may not be able to handle the assignment." Of course, with Gin it was different. He seemed perfectly willing to get rid of anyone he had to, whether that someone was an enemy, a childhood friend, or a romantic interest. Vermouth often wondered what went through his mind, and if he was truly as cold-hearted and uncaring about the Miyano sisters as he liked to appear. Something told her that there were a lot of emotions under the surface that Gin did not allow anyone to see, and that was part of why she was so intrigued by him.

"I think everyone can care about other people," Ayumi answered, "even if they're trained not to. Doesn't everyone start out caring about someone? I don't think all the training in the world could make that go away." She smiled a bit. "Gin-sama and Vodka-san care about each other, even if they're not supposed to." She paused, mulling something over in her mind. "The doctor said it's dangerous for Vodka-san to give blood right now, but he's going to anyway. Why would he do that if he doesn't care? And Gin-sama rescued him when he was drowning. . . ."

Vermouth allowed this to sink into her mind. "You know, you could be right," she mused. She had always been fond of them both, and she enjoyed teasing them. After the many years they had worked together, she had come to feel that they probably did care about each other in some way---even if it was just that they had grown used to being around each other and did not want to be apart because of that.

"Vermouth-san?" Ayumi looked up at her sleepily. "Do you think Gin-sama cares about me? I'm afraid I'm just someone who bothers him. . . . Every time I've seen him, I seem to get into trouble, and then he and Vodka-san get in trouble, and I just feel awful about it!" She sighed, looking down again. "He never really says he cares, but I guess I don't think he would say it, even if he did. And he only called me by my name once. . . ." These were things she had worried over for some time, but she had never known how to voice her concerns. She had started to feel that way tenfold after Gin had been shot so many times by Ling. Seeing him laying lifeless, and knowing that it was because of her, pained her like nothing she had ever felt before.

The female agent blinked in surprise at Ayumi's sincere query. "Well," she said then, "I'd look at his actions more than anything else. Look at everything he's done for you---protecting you more than once from Ushio, getting you out of that burning house, trying so hard to find the antidote to the poison . . ." She hesitated. "And making sure you didn't get hit by any of those bullets," she finished, and felt Ayumi tense. Gently she laid a hand on the child's shoulder blades. "I can tell you right now that he wouldn't do those things for just anyone. He cares about you, alright---even though he's too much of a stubborn jackass to ever say so."

Ayumi tried to relax. "I don't like causing him so much trouble," she said softly. "It's my fault that he got shot. . . ." She hiccuped, the tears slipping out again. "If I'd just seen that man going to shoot, Gin-sama wouldn't have had to save me from him . . . and maybe he would've gotten out of the way in time!" She kept replaying the scene in her mind. In her mental version, she did not try to run to Gin. The blonde managed to dive out of the way as the crates were shot instead, and all of them were able to flee down the docks to safety. But it was only a fantasy.

Vermouth watched her, thinking that it was such a load for one as young as Ayumi to have to carry---believing that she was responsible for someone she loved being seriously injured. It was enough of a strain on those who were much older than her. Adults would sometimes crack under the burden, and here was little Ayumi, struggling with it herself for who knows how long. "Now, you know Gin wouldn't want to hear you talk like that," she told the child quietly. "He would never want you to feel responsible. He would tell you that it's useless to regret the past."

"I know," Ayumi said, her voice shaking, "but what if he dies, Vermouth-san? What if he dies?"

Vermouth did not know what to tell her. She knew that if that happened, Ayumi would always blame herself. And she did not think that was right. Ayumi was sweet and innocent, and she held Gin in such high esteem that it amazed Vermouth. She should not have to make herself feel that Gin's fate was all because of her. Ling most likely would have still managed to shoot him at some point, anyway.

She stayed with Ayumi until the girl fell asleep, and then Vermouth lifted her back into the folds of Gin's coat. Ayumi snuggled into it, seeming at peace while in her dreams, and Vermouth stood up in determination. Now there was something else she needed to do before going back to work.

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Vodka lay on the second bed in Gin's room, staring up at the ceiling. Being there made him uncomfortable; seeing Gin laying unconscious and half-dead made him uncomfortable; in fact, the entire situation made him uncomfortable. He wished that Gin would wake up and be alright. He was stabilized, but there was still a very real chance that his injuries and the blood loss would kill him.

He glanced over at the blonde with a sigh. Gin was quiet, of course, giving no indication that he heard the steadily beeping heart monitor or that he felt the sharp needle in his arm as the needed blood was given to him. Knowing that Gin would be furious if he woke up wearing a hospital gown, Vodka had brought him some clothes from their suite when he had changed into dry clothes himself. Gin despised hospital gowns, feeling that they destroyed one's dignity.

The most odd things could come to one's mind at times like this. Vodka was recalling Gin's annoyance over other goings-on; being in a hospital or an infirmary at all would make him extremely frustrated. Gin could never feel in control in that situation, and having control over what happened to him was very important to him. And he would probably be angry with himself over getting injured in the first place. Vodka knew how furious he had been when recovering from the poisoning. Gin had felt as though he should have been able to hear the attacker coming. This time, he had seen the oncoming assault, but he had not managed to get away in time.

Vodka wondered how Ayumi was faring with Vermouth. It surprised him that those two seemed to get along so well, but he was perfectly accepting of it. He himself was most definitely not good at handling Ayumi, or so he believed. He had never been extremely fond of children, finding a large portion of them to be brats, but Ayumi was not like them. She was innocent and pure, never meaning to cause anyone trouble. She was easy to like, though Vodka still found her exasperating at times.

He started and looked up when he heard the sound of high-heeled shoes clicking on the floor. As he watched, Vermouth entered and very deliberately walked to Gin. She gazed down at him for a moment and then, feeling Vodka's gaze upon her, turned to face him and smirked. "I'll be with you in a moment, Vodka," she purred and winked, and Vodka looked away in embarrassment. She bent over Gin then, talking in a low voice, and Vodka strained to hear what she was saying.

"I know you've always been stubborn, Gin, and you'll do exactly what you want to, as you always have. But I doubt you want to die. And I think you should try to stay alive for another reason in addition to whatever's going on in your mind." She leaned closer, and Vodka had to practically fall off the other bed before he could catch her words this time. "That little girl who adores you thinks it's her fault that you're laying like this. If you die now, she'll blame herself. And no matter how much you would grunt and groan about that, you wouldn't want that for her, would you? I don't believe you would." She laid a hand on top of his as she started to straighten up. "Anyway . . . I'd still like to make a martini with you sometime." Now she smirked again, and Vodka stared at her in disbelief.

She glanced over at him again. "Eavesdropping, Vodka?" she said in a sultry tone.

He flushed. As usual, he tried to come up with an answer, and also as usual, he failed.

She smiled. "You should just rest for now," she remarked as she turned to go. "By giving your blood to Gin, you've probably put more of a strain on yourself than you realize." Before Vodka could reply, she was already walking out of the room. But then she turned back slightly. "Oh, Ayumi is asleep in the waiting room again," she informed him. "Once she wakes up, she'll probably want to come in here."

Vodka could only nod as Vermouth departed.

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The female agent was right. Ayumi did not sleep for long before she awoke to find herself alone in the waiting room, and she did not waste any time locating the doctor, who told her that it was alright for her to go into Gin and Vodka's room, if she was quiet. And so she came in a few moments later, again carrying Gin's coat and hat, which she set on a chair.

Vodka looked over at her, rising slightly on the bed. "Is Vermouth gone?" he asked, though he was already certain of the answer.

Ayumi nodded, and turned to look up at him. "Are you okay, Vodka-san?" she wanted to know.

"I'm fine," he answered, somewhat flustered. He would not admit it, but he did feel quite lightheaded after donating the blood that he had. Resting sounded like a very good idea right now.

She gazed up at Gin, wanting to climb onto the bed and yet hesitating, not knowing if she would inadvertently hurt him worse. "Will Gin-sama be okay?" she wondered now, her voice soft and sad.

"I don't know!" Vodka snapped, sounding more harsh than he meant to. He regretted it instantly when he saw her shoulders slump. It was just that he hated being continually asked a question that he could not answer---especially when he wanted to know as much as Ayumi did.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Just . . . get up there if you want to," he said finally, his voice having quieted to normal tones. "I'm sure you're not going to do him any harm."

Nodding slowly, Ayumi climbed up onto the bed and scooted to Gin's uninjured side, laying her head against his chest. She started to relax, smiling a bit, and gently draped a small arm around his motionless body. "Gin-sama . . . I wish you'd wake up," she murmured as she started to doze once again.

Vodka watched her for a moment before laying back, knowing that he should get some rest as well. _You and me both,_ he said silently in relation to her sincere plea. _You and me both. . . ._


	8. Epilogue, For Now

**Notes: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! I've greatly enjoyed writing about these characters, and I hope that everyone will stay with me as I continue to pursue DC-related projects. This tale isn't over yet! I'm thinking that it will be a trilogy, at least.  
**

**Chapter Eight**

Gin did not know how much time had passed when he finally regained consciousness. It took him a while before he was even able to wrestle open his eyes. Slowly he focused on the dimly lit room he was in, becoming aware of the steady beep of the heart monitor. He hated those things. Not only were they simply annoying in and of themselves, but their presence meant that he was in the infirmary wing. Actually, when he remembered all the bullets that had come raining into his body, he supposed it was surprising that he was not in the morgue. He smirked weakly. Ling still had not won.

He was gratified to see that he was wearing a robe and not a hospital gown---confounded things. As he shifted slightly, several locks of his hair fell over his shoulder and he noticed that it had been freshly washed from whatever blood had stained it after the shooting.

Feeling something warm snuggled by his side, he glanced down and saw Ayumi curled up there, having laid her head against his chest. She seemed to be asleep, and she looked exhausted. He also noticed that his arm was around her, and he wondered if she had done that or if he could have done it in his senselessness. Then he fully realized that they were on the base, and his eyes widened. What on earth was Ayumi doing there?

"Bro?"

Gin started at the voice and looked around, soon finding Vodka wearily sitting in a nearby chair. His partner looked relieved to see him awake, and Gin tried to find the strength to speak. At last he managed to hiss, "Why is the girl here?"

Vodka sighed, looking embarrassed and nervous. "It's a long story," he replied then, hesitantly, "but she's only been here, in the infirmary, and she doesn't know how to get to the base. I made sure she wasn't looking out the window. . . . I didn't tell her to come, bro, honest!" Quickly he explained about the other children calling to her and how he had fled with Gin's body, only to find Ayumi jumping into the car right before he started the engine. "She didn't want to leave you," he said quietly, not wanting to wake her. "She was worried that you weren't gonna make it. . . ."

Gin growled weakly in the back of his throat. "She's a fool," he muttered. Ayumi should have gone with her friends instead of coming with Vodka. He still could not understand why Ayumi loved him so much. Yes, he had saved her, more than once, but did she not realize how dangerous it was for her to associate with him? Did she not realize that he was not the sort of person she should look up to and idolize? Then he sighed softly. She had admitted herself that she knew he was an assassin, and yet she loved him anyway. To Gin, it did not make sense.

"Anyone who's seen her just thinks she's one of the agents in training," Vodka admitted, and then sighed himself. "Well, except Vermouth. . . ."

Gin mumbled something that was probably a curse.

Vodka could see that he was still very weak and pale. He knew that Gin should not try to talk very much at this point. And he also knew that Gin would do as he pleased.

"How long has it been?"

Vodka looked into the weary green eyes. "I'm not even sure," he admitted. "It's been hours, bro. . . . We were all wondering if you'd make it. . . ." Absently he laid a hand on the bed railing. "You were really bad off for a while there. I thought you'd left us at one point. . . ." He felt uncomfortable discussing that, however, and looked away.

Gin grunted. "I died?" he asked flatly.

Vodka nodded slowly. "On the operating table," he admitted. "It took them a while to get you back. They'd almost given up. . . ." He shuddered faintly, remembering one of the nurses coming into the room where they had been tending to Vodka's shoulder and telling him that they were having trouble reviving his partner. He had panicked.

Gin was silent for a moment. "What would you have done if I hadn't revived?" He knew that Vodka looked up to and relied on him, and suspected that Vodka even cared greatly about him, and he wondered if Vodka had ever thought about what he would do if Gin was someday killed. Somehow he doubted it. Vodka did not seem to him like the type to think that far into the future. But Gin supposed that if he was killed, Vodka would be put with another high-level agent. And hopefully not Vermouth. That would be a complete disaster.

_Heh . . ._ he thought to himself when he realized how flippantly he had just been thinking of his own death. That was the way it was with him---able to think easily about anyone's demise. It came from his training. And yet . . . he did not want to think about Ayumi dying. The thought made him furious. And when he watched Vodka, the sudden thought struck him that it was not as easy to imagine him gone as Gin had thought it would be, especially after Vodka had nearly drowned earlier. Bah . . . he had gotten too used to his partner being around. That was dangerous.

Vodka looked back at him in shock after the other spoke. Gin was gazing at him seriously, with an impassable expression. But Vodka did not know how to answer. He did not even want to think about what Gin was asking. And so he shook his head helplessly.

"I thought so," Gin said evenly, then started as Ayumi suddenly came to life.

"Gin-sama!" she cried in delight, and promptly threw her arms around his neck. She had been awakened by Gin and Vodka talking, even though they had tried to be quiet. But she was perfectly happy with that. Now she knew that her Gin-sama was awake. Surely that meant that there was more hope of a recovery for him. And she was so relieved that she burst into tears.

Gin simply let her hug him. He was much too stymied to do anything else.

Vodka watched this, somewhat shocked, somewhat amused, and somewhat touched, and then remembered reluctantly what he needed to tell Gin. He swallowed nervously, shifting about. Gin would not be happy. Vodka himself was not pleased. He had been absolutely alarmed when he had first been told.

Gin looked over, his eyes narrowing when he saw the other's expression. "What is it?" he demanded, absently laying a hand on Ayumi's back. She also looked up, blinking in confusion.

Vodka sighed, leaning forward in the chair. "Some of the agents went and looked around the warehouse," he reported, "and they didn't find Hi Sou's body with the others. When they went inside, it looked like someone who was badly injured had fired from the window."

Gin growled. "So it could have been Hi Sou?" he muttered.

Ayumi gasped. "That's terrible," she exclaimed softly. "So he might still cause trouble?" It was not that she wanted Ling to be dead, but she also did not want him to be able to come and hurt Gin again. She was terrified of him, after the way he had used her and after what he had done to Gin.

"If he knows I'm still alive," Gin answered, "then he probably will." He knew that he would have to lay low until he healed, which would be a while---though he would no doubt push himself, as always. And he wondered what to do about Ayumi. Of course she could not keep staying there. She should not have come there at all. They would have to take her back. She was only in danger if Ling knew that his enemy had not died. Then he might try to use her against him again. But Ling himself would need time to heal. Hopefully they would not hear from him for a while, if ever. Perhaps he was even dead. He could have passed away later, after exerting himself to fire at Gin. But Gin was not willing to say that that was definitely the case.

Ayumi bit her lip, sitting up and taking hold of Gin's hand. It was warm now, and not limp, and she smiled softly in relief and joy. "You're gonna be okay, aren't you, Gin-sama?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," he grunted. "But Vodka's going to have to take you back."

Ayumi's shoulders slumped. She knew that Gin was right, and she did want to go home to her family and her other friends, but she could not bear to leave Gin yet. And she looked at him pleadingly. "Oh, please, Gin-sama, can't I stay for just a little longer?" she begged, her voice cracking. "I've been so worried about you, and now you're finally awake. . . ."

Gin grumbled, but at last he decided that a few more hours would not make much difference, and he told her that she could stay for at least the rest of the day, whereupon she hugged him again.

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Gin did not know how it happened, but "several hours" became several days. He was recovering slowly but steadily, and after four or five days he was completely exasperated with the infirmary wing and wanted to get out. As he said, there was nothing there that would help him any further, and he could recover much better in his own bed. The doctors, who were exasperated as well, finally agreed to let him go---but only if he actually did rest, and if he rode back to his and Vodka's suite in a wheelchair. After all, they said, he was certainly not well enough to get up and try to walk all that way. Gin was not pleased at all, but he was so desperate to get out of there that he agreed. And whether he would admit it or not, he did not particularly like the thought of walking any distance right now.

"You have to go back tonight," Gin growled at Ayumi as Vodka wheeled him down the hall. Ayumi was walking alongside the wheelchair, relieved that Gin was well enough to even be up this much.

She could never forget how alarming it had been to see him laying so cold and still, bleeding from the many wounds. Several times she had had nightmares about that, and in the nightmares, Gin did not wake up. Then she would wake up in tears and have to check to make certain that he was still breathing and that his heart was still beating before she could go back to sleep. Gin had woken up and caught her doing that one night, and when she had explained her dream, he had muttered something unintelligible before falling into a slumber again.

Now Ayumi sighed softly. "I know," she replied. "Everyone must be so worried. . . ." She had asked several times to be able to call them, and Gin had always refused, though finally, after wearing down, he had told Vodka to take her to somewhere not close by where she could use a payphone and let her parents know that she was safe. She had done that and then had quickly hung up after saying that she did not know where she was. It made her feel guilty in some way, and yet she knew that it was an honest answer.

Gin grunted. "What are you going to tell them when you get back?" he asked. This was such a complicated situation. Again he wished that Vodka had not brought her back.

Ayumi shrugged. "I'll say I've been with Gin-sama at a hospital," she said then, and smiled. "That's what I said on the phone, and it's true. . . ." She looked up at him. "You and Vodka-san won't get in trouble, will you?"

"No," Gin answered flatly. "We'll be fine. Don't worry about us." He leaned back, watching as they approached the elevator.

When they were inside, he was suddenly startled by Ayumi climbing carefully onto his lap. She smiled up at him, pure and innocent, and then snuggled close, making sure to be careful of his wounds. He watched her, apparently not knowing what to think or do. Then, slowly, he put an arm around her so that she would not fall once they were out of the elevator.

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It was snowing again. The flakes tumbled from the gray sky, swirling and dancing around each other and around objects in their way as they headed for the ground. Vodka kept the windshield wipers on as he manuevered down the slippery streets, muttering to himself. Snow was not one of his favorite things, and it made him nervous right now. He had to make sure that nothing happened to the Porsche as he drove through it.

After getting back to town, he had to stop and look over a map of that section of the city to see how to get to Ayumi's house from where they were. He made it to her street without incident and parked in front of the darkened house next door. At Ayumi's house, the lights were on and there was a car in the driveway. Vodka did not want to be seen by whoever was home.

"Well," he said as he turned off the engine, "here it is."

He was stunned when Ayumi came to him and hugged him firmly. "Thank you, Vodka-san," she said softly, and looked up at him sweetly.

He opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say, but then he could not. "You'd better get going," he said at last.

She nodded reluctantly and turned to his companion in the passenger seat. She embraced him now as well, feeling his soft hair against her hands, and whispered softly to him. "Thank you, Gin-sama. . . . I love you. . . ." She felt him stiffen in shock, and she smiled gently, pulling back to look into what she could see of his green eyes. "I hope we can see each other again," she told him. She did not want to leave him, and yet she wanted to see the other people she cared about. And she knew that she could not keep staying at their base. That was too risky for all of them.

He grunted. "It would be better for you if we didn't," he answered flatly.

She did not answer that. Instead she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye, Gin-sama," she said softly, and climbed out of the car, shutting the door gently behind her.

As Gin and Vodka watched, she went up to her house and knocked, whereupon the door was opened and she was swept up into her parents' arms as they exclaimed in surprise and relief.

Gin nodded slowly in satisfaction. "Let's go," he directed, leaning back in the seat.

Vodka nodded as well and started the engine. "You didn't have to come along, bro," he remarked as he pulled out of the parking space. "You were supposed to rest. . . ." He had frankly been surprised when Gin had insisted on coming. But then again, perhaps it was not that surprising. Gin had wanted to make certain himself that Ayumi got home safely, even though he trusted Vodka to be able to do it.

"I'm resting. You're driving, aren't you?" Gin retorted, and placed a cigarette in his mouth.

"Well . . . yeah . . . but I don't think this is what the doctor meant when he said for you to rest," Vodka answered slowly, driving around the corner.

Gin grunted. "You know I don't put much stock in what the doctors say." He lit the cigarette, looking out at the swirling white flakes.

Vodka shook his head. Did he ever know.

"Do you think we'll ever see that girl again, bro?" he asked after a moment. It seemed strange, for her to not be with them when she had been for several days. Vodka wondered if Gin felt the same, but he knew that the blonde would never admit to it if he did.

Gin's expression turned thoughtful. "I would say no, but that's what I thought the last time," he replied, and then did not say more. Vodka did not, either.


End file.
